


Chocolate

by moontear



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontear/pseuds/moontear
Summary: Rey Kenobi is having the most miserable night of her life. Her best friend has gotten married, and he doesn't even know how she feels. She's at a bar, drinking her woes away, while their friends party after the reception. In walks a handsome stranger, Ben Solo. Rey certainly didn't INTEND to sleep with him. Now she's juggling her dignity and the aftermath of a one-night stand.





	1. Five-for-Five

**Author's Note:**

> I have a very dear friend who is very supportive, and she really needs a pick-me-up, and so I am writing her a story! I don't intend for it to be very long. I really hope everyone enjoys! (That was a lot of "very's.")

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

 

* * *

Rey Kenobi was having the worst night of her life.

 

Not only had her crush—Poe Dameron—gotten married today, she'd been his best man and had had to witness giving him away to some pretty little thing Rey had only met, perhaps, three times. The reception was over, and now they were at their group's favorite bar, getting smashed. She could hear them in the background, laughing gaily, while they were fawned over by every friend Rey had.

 

This.

 

Was.

 

Pure.

 

Torture.

 

A man slipped onto the stool next to her at the bar. She didn't recognize him, which suited her fine. She wasn't confident that she could hide how very miserable she was from any of her friends. Finn, especially, and Finn would not let up until she'd spilled everything. Well… He knew everything already, knew how much she was suffering. She'd been avoiding him all night. So far, she'd managed.

 

Hopefully, it would continue to stay that way.

 

Rey's teeth closed over an olive on the tiny spear from her martini.

 

"You look like shit."

 

Rey stiffened with offense.

 

She had to say, this was a first, a bloody stranger insulting her out of nowhere.

 

"Do I know you?" she asked.

 

"No," the newcomer replied.

 

"So bugger off," she snapped, and she went back to her martini, ignoring the cheers of her chaps as they went another round some few tables behind her.

 

"I would," he said. "But I feel like shit, too."

 

"How lovely for you," she murmured, truly not caring one whit.

 

"I just came back from a funeral."

 

That brought Rey's head up. Now she'd done it. "Oh, I'm so—" But the man, serious though his face was, had a smile at the corner of his mouth. She glared. "That's a terrible thing to say when it's not true."

 

"But it got you to look at me," he parried smugly.

 

Rey pointedly returned to her martini.

 

"You look good in a tux," the man observed.

 

"I was the best man at a wedding today," Rey replied wryly. She jerked her head in the direction of her friends. "I thought it'd look odd if I showed up in a dress." She signaled the barkeep for another martini. Her unwanted companion asked for a scotch, neat.

 

He drummed his fingers against the surface of the bar. "I saw you there, you know."

 

This took Rey by surprise. "What?" He had been there? "Who did you know? The bride or the groom?"

 

He chuckled softly beneath his breath.

 

She frowned. "Why is that funny?"

 

"It's not." His glass of scotch was placed before him, and he took a sip. "I was there before the wedding."

 

"Why?"

 

"You ask a lot of questions," he observed.

 

"You told me I looked like shite and then initiated the conversation," she fired back. "I have every right to ask questions. Unless you'd prefer to go?" She raised her eyebrows, signaling she wouldn't be opposed to that at all.

 

He sighed, leaning his arms against the bar. His eyes flicked to the football—er, soccer—game on the nearest tele screen. "I go to confession sometimes."

 

"The church was closed all day in preparation for the ceremony." Suspicion zinged through Rey.

 

"Yes, but my uncle is the priest. He made an exception for me." Another sip.

 

"Luke Skywalker is your uncle?" Interested, Rey ignored her second martini in favor of turning so she could see him better. The stool was backless and uncomfortable, but she'd grown used to that ages ago.

 

"Mhm."

 

"Small world," Rey murmured. "But how did you wind up here? Did you follow me?" She tensed.

 

"Don't give yourself so much credit," he said bluntly. She set her jaw, prepared to tell him off—why did he continue to insult her?—but he nudged her martini closer to her. "It was coincidence. I walked in and saw you here."

 

"I don't believe in coincidence," Rey told him.

 

"You don't?" He seemed amused.

 

"No," she replied in all seriousness. "Never have."

 

"Hmm…" He mulled that over for a moment. While he did, Rey ate another olive. She'd been so sick with—… all sorts of hurtful and ugly feelings at the reception that she hadn't been able to stomach a single thing. Even the smell of the food had made her woozy.

 

"You're Catholic?" she finally asked, because he'd made it clear he wasn't going anywhere.

 

"No," he replied baldly. "But sometimes I feel the need to let things off my chest. My uncle is the only one I can talk to about it, and even then, I still think he judges me."

 

"He's a priest," Rey said. "And your uncle. I doubt—"

 

"You're not that naïve," the stranger interrupted. He winced. "…But thanks."

 

"For what?"

 

"For trying to make me feel better."

 

Was that what she had been trying to do?

 

She supposed so.

 

"What's your name?" she asked.

 

"Ben," he replied. "What's yours?"

 

"Rey."

 

"Rey." He said it the way one would play a lone piano note in the depth of darkness. It made her shiver in the noisiness of the bar. "Short for Rachel?"

 

"No." She shook her head. "Just Rey. And not like a ray of sunshine. It's R-E-Y."

 

He smothered a laugh. "Pffft."

 

"What?" she grumbled defensively.

 

"You must have to explain that a lot."

 

"You, yourself, asked me if it was short for Rachel!" she said hotly. Honestly. She was growing tired of his presence. "What are you, Ben Skywalker, then?" Asking something else was better than arguing with a perfect stranger. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. That would invite Finn over.

 

"Ben Solo." He smiled.

 

Her heart skipped a beat.

 

It hadn't… done that… in a long time…

 

And what was more, it didn't _hurt_.

 

 _Don't be ridiculous_ , she told herself with an inward harrumph. _It's the drink._

"I'm Rey Kenobi." Why was she so irritable? He was riling her up so quickly, it was making her head spin.

 

Definitely the drink.

 

"All right. So, Rey Kenobi… Why do you look like shit?"

 

A murderous glint must have come to her eyes, because the bartender shifted nervously away. Ben, however, only grinned lazily, his fingertips dancing over the edge of his glass.

 

"Have you ever spoken to a girl in your life?" she snipped.

 

"Maybe," he replied in what he probably felt was a mysterious voice. "You going to answer my question?"

 

"That depends. Are you going to stop saying I look like shite?"

 

He nodded his head in acquiescence.

 

"You see that man over there? Nine o'clock?" Rey lifted her martini. She wouldn't make it obvious about who she was referring to. Seeing Poe with Rebecca, his new wife, would put her in an even fouler mood. They'd dressed into more comfortable clothing. Rey had only loosened her tie and popped the top buttons on her shirt.

 

"Curly hair? Cocky attitude? Probably compensating for a small cock?"

 

Rey choked on a laugh, and as a result, her martini burned out of her nose. She hurriedly swiped for a napkin, her eyes watering. Ow!

 

"Yeah, I see him," Ben said.

 

"Well… I've been in love with him for three years." Rey crumpled her napkin into her palm, wiping at her eyes with her knuckle.

 

" _Him_?" Ben asked in disbelief. "No."

 

She nodded.

 

"Really?"

 

She nodded again, then sighed. "Yeah… Pathetic, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah," he agreed. "And you two aren't together because…?"

 

"Because I'm too much of a coward to tell him how I feel," Rey said. She downed the last of her second martini. Ben grabbed her hand mid-gesture for a third, and she was buzzed enough to let it happen. "What are you doing?"

 

"This isn't enough."

 

"What?"

 

"Ten shots of tequila," he called.

 

" _Ten_?" Rey's eyes widened. "No! Is this your plan? Get me drunk and tumble into your bed?"

 

Long lashes abruptly lowered over rather beautiful dark brown eyes. It made her breath catch in her throat.

 

"And if it was?"

 

Rey snatched her hand away, praying that her reddened cheeks could be blamed on the alcohol she'd consumed.

 

He laughed. The bartender, a burly man with blonde hair and an epic beard that was tied at the end near his collarbone, set ten shot glasses on the counter. He held Cuervo up in question. Ben nodded. Amber liquid splashed.

 

"If I was trying to take you home, you'd know," Ben informed her. "I have some questions."

 

"Fine," Rey sighed. She'd stayed here this long—they both knew she wasn't going anywhere.

 

"Does this prick know how you feel?"

 

"No," she mumbled somberly.

 

Ben picked up a clear shaker of salt. "Hold out your wrist." When she did so, he grasped it and licked it. His fingers tightened around it, preventing an easy escape. Heat flashed down her spine. It was getting easier to blame things on the alcohol.

 

He sprinkled salt on the patch of wet skin. "He knows," he said. "He's not as stupid as he looks. And he looks pretty damned stupid," he added under his breath. "Next: I take it you're best friends if you're his best man?"

 

"He's one of them, yeah," Rey replied somewhat breathlessly. She ran her tongue over the salt and grabbed a shot. She downed the tequila, wincing as she did so. Blech! Where was that lime? She sank her teeth into it.

 

Ben presented his wrist.

 

She squinted at him.

 

He shook it insistently.

 

Ugh.

 

_Just do it. You let him do it to you._

She circled her fingers around his wrist and pressed her tongue there, a flash of dampness, nothing more. A second later, she added salt to the mix. She watched avidly as he did a shot in turn.

 

His empty shot glass clinked on the bar. "Ever try to make him jealous?"

 

"No," Rey said.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because… I don't know. I guess I was waiting around for him to figure it out."

 

"You're better than that," Ben said simply. He flicked his fingers toward her arm. She rolled her eyes and then presented it to him. "Lucky for you, I believe it can be done. You up for it?"

 

She wet her lips. Was she?

 

He leaned in. "If it helps your decision, he's already watching us," he said with a roguish grin.

 

Rey brightened. "He is?" A fresh shiver traced down her spine as Ben's tongue met her flesh a second time.

 

"Yeah. And considering he just got married, that should tell you he's a real piece of shit."

 

Rey wanted to argue with him, but… Well. He had a bit of a point, didn't he?

 

She knocked back her next shot.

 

By then, she was giggling.

 

"The secret is to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself," Ben was saying.

 

She took his arm, closing her eyes as she purposefully ran a long trail up the length of it.

 

"Fuck," she heard him breathe. "Thought you didn't want to come home with me."

 

"Never said that," she said. "Is he still watching?"

 

Ben downed Cuervo. Two-for-two.

 

"Yeah."

 

Three-for-three.

 

Four-for-four.

 

Rey laughed so hard Ben had to catch her so she didn't fall off the stool. She didn't remember why she was laughing, just that she found him absolutely hilarious. He steadied her and pulled her hair off her neck where it had come free from its elegant bun. His tongue followed, and she swallowed a groan.

 

She knew she should tell him to stop.

 

She didn't.

 

She didn't want to.

 

"I can't lick salt from there," she breathed.

 

"I know," he murmured. "I can."

 

And he did.

 

Five-for-four.

 

"Your turn," he announced.

 

She braced a hand on his thigh and leaned up. "I think we've done this in another life," she said somewhat drunkenly.

 

He gripped her hip and tilted his head so she could move his hair back like he'd done to her. It was black, silky, wavy, beautiful, long enough to touch his shoulders. She wanted to run her fingers through it for hours. She'd ask what had gotten into her, but she already knew.

 

"Done what in another life?" he asked.

 

"Tequila shots. I don't know. Don't ask me. I'm half-cut." She was supposed to just lick his neck, but next thing she knew, she was suckling at the crook where his neck met his shoulder. A soft moan lifted from him, thrilling her. "Pass me the salt."

 

He shoved it into her hand.

 

"Excellent," she breathed.

 

She lingered far more than was necessary and got a squeeze to the back of her thigh for her trouble.

 

"Tease," he growled.

 

Rey grabbed her final shot and grimaced as it burned its way down her throat.

 

"There," she said.

 

Five-for-five.

 

And then she put her arms around him and kissed him. He tasted like salt, tequila, and something better. Something dark and promising. He didn't push her off, either—he tugged her closer, sinking his teeth into her lower lip, his hands roaming up her back.

 

"Not here," he said. "Come home with me?"

 

"Yeah," she gasped.

 

He fumbled in his pocket for his wallet and slapped money on the table. Then he picked her straight off her stool while she grabbed her purse, and she laughed as he swept her over his shoulder. She caught Finn's eye on the way out and waved merrily.

 

* * *

 

 

Cab.

 

Fingers tangled in raven locks.

 

A hungry mouth on hers.

 

Lips skimming her neck.

 

City lights flashing by.

 

A moan.

 

* * *

 

 

_Bzzzt… bzzzt… bzzzt…_

 

Rey's head was _pounding_.

 

She flailed a hand out, reaching for her phone on her nightstand—missed—nearly fell out of bed. Her eyes flickered open and the sunlight that greeted them made her groan and close them hurriedly.

 

Oh.

 

God.

 

She was so hungover.

 

_Bzzzt…_

"I hear you!" she hissed.

 

It was around that time that she realized she wasn't in her own bed.

 

And that there was a heavy arm thrown over her waist.

 

Oh—

 

Oh, dear, sweet—

 

Oh, God.

 

_Look. Turn around and look._

No! No, she couldn't do it!

 

But she had to.

 

She did.

 

It was as bad as she had feared.

 

She was in bed with Ben Solo.

 

Swallowing thickly against her raw, scratchy throat, she moved as minimally as possible as she raised her phone.

 

_Two missed calls: Finn._

_One text message._

_Finn: Girl, PLEASE tell me you are okay and that you weren't shanked by that guy you were all over last night!_

Rey buried her face in the pillow she seemed to have claimed for herself.

 

Oh, bloody hell.

 

Now what?

 

How to get out of this apartment without waking up this one-night stand, that was what!

 

It took a considerable amount of stealth for Rey to climb out of that bed with Ben completely unaware. Part of the credit was due to the fact that he was a heavy sleeper. Peaceful—beautiful, _so_ beautiful in an untraditional way—but… but one-night stand, one-night stand, one-night stand!

 

Now where were her clothes?

 

Her bra was hanging from a lampshade. Her panties were near her feet. The rest of her clothes were a straight trail out of the massive bedroom, which was a very expensive apartment in the city. Unbelievable. This was a scene straight out of a walk-of-shame romance novel.

 

_Carefully, carefully…_

 

She tiptoed over the plush white carpet, quietly collecting her things, frequently sneaking glances over her shoulder at the slumbering man on the king-sized bed. The sheet covered nothing. He was huge—all tanned skin stretched over muscle, broad shoulders, long limbs.

 

And… currently… stirring…

 

Rey panicked.

 

She hurried out of the room, wincing, pulling on her clothes, stuffing her panties and bra in her purse. She never went without wearing those, but she didn't have time to fuss with them now. Her tux jacket, she folded over her arm. The front door clicked as she shut it, and she winced.

 

Rey waited until she was down the hallway to fish out her sunglasses and squish them onto her face. Her hair, she yanked into a messy bun. She mashed on the elevator buttons, her head still pounding. She wasn't very religious, but in that moment, she prayed to God more than she ever had to make the machine come faster.

 

_Come on, come on, come on, come on!_

A _ding!_ , and it opened with a satisfying slide of doors.

 

There was a woman dressed primly waiting there.

 

Rey covered the side of her face with her hand and moved to the corner of the elevator. The lobby button was already pressed. As the elevator rumbled and traveled down, she slumped her shoulders.

 

"Am I a whore?" she half-sobbed, half-mumbled.

 

The other woman gave her a long side-eye.

 

Rey couldn't even blame her.

 

 _Fuck me,_ she swore.

 

Just what had happened after she got into that cab with Ben Solo?

 

Bliss.

 

Sheer bliss.

 

That was all she remembered.

 

_Bzzzt._

_One text message._

_Finn: If you don't answer me within the next five minutes, I'm putting out a missing person report! It's noon!_

In spite of how badly it ached, Rey thunked her head against the elevator wall.

 

Five times.

 

For five shots.

 

_Fuck my life._


	2. Mishap at the Bookstore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad I received such a positive response from the first chapter! I'm here with a second! I usually don't write chapters this long, but it sort of kept going… So I went with it.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

 

* * *

 

  

"Are you ever gonna look up from Skyrim, or…?"

 

"It's on the VR, Rey!"

 

"Gah! Finn! You're about to hit me!"

 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see you. Omigod, I'm really there! I'm really about to get my head chopped off! Can you see it on the screen? Soooo cool! Ah, I love this game so much! I can't believe I'm finally playing it on the VR!"

 

Rey sighed and threw herself onto Finn's recliner in his living room. "You've put over… what did you say it was? Five hundred hours into this game?"

 

"Probably six hundred since it came out. Oh, shit! There's the dragon!"

 

They were going to be here a while.

 

"You like Skyrim, too, Rey, what gives?" Finn asked.

 

"I like going and killing all the people in the cities. I want to break the record for how many septims I'm wanted for." She got comfortable in the chair and grabbed a throw blanket. Finn had a clean bachelor pad, and his things didn't stink. "I think I'm at 400k."

 

"How do you get any quests done…? Geeze… Oh, crap! I gotta run—how do you run?! What are the controls—"

 

"I don't get quests done," she muttered. "Finn, you called me over here. Are we going to talk or what?"

 

"I called you over here so you can see how awesome this is!"

 

Rey rolled her eyes. "Skyrim isn't exactly a game for two people—"

 

"Look at this menu, it's gonna take forever to set this up…"

 

"I'm leaving," she announced.

 

"Awh, Rey, c'mon! Here, you try it!" Finn pulled at the VR headset.

 

"No—really, I'm all right," she insisted. "I want to get to the bookstore."

 

"The bookstore?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Her friend finished with the headset and put it aside. He plopped down on the L-shaped couch next to the recliner. Finn worked in IT and had a decent income. He lived comfortably, and his flat reflected it. Rey spent a good deal of time here, especially since Poe had become engaged, so some of her things were here, as well, such as the throw blanket.

 

While the game idled, Finn rubbed a hand over the back of his head where the headset had been and exhaled. "Ho'kay. Well, I wanted to talk to you about…" He waved a hand at her—paused—bit his lip in thought. Then he shook his head and got straight to it. "It's been two months, and you haven't said a _woooord_ about that one-night stand with Creepy McGee."

 

"Creepy Mc—? _What_?" Rey laughed uproariously, clutching her sides. "He was not creepy!"

 

"Rey," Finn protested around the start of his own laugh, "he came out of _nowhere_ , _got you drunk_ , _was doing shots off you_ , slung you over his shoulder, and _took you home_!"

 

"Yeah, but he was really, really fit!" Rey argued. Then she sobered, her laughter dying into chuckles and then an awkward silence. "What's there to talk about? I had a one-night stand. I told you."

 

"Uh huh…" Finn wet his lips before scratching his eyebrow with his thumb. "Yeah, that's not really _you_ … And it's not really you to not talk about it with me. It's making me think you're not okay."

 

"I am," Rey said, trying not to feel defensive. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 

"Rey…" Finn coaxed.

 

She turned her head, setting her jaw. "Look… I feel embarrassed that it happened at all." She pushed a hand into her hair. "You're right. It isn't like me. But… it _did_ happen. And all I can do is move on."

 

"Why do you feel embarrassed?" Finn questioned.

 

"What do you mean?" Rey replied, her mouth turning down.

 

"I mean what I mean. Why do you feel embarrassed? You didn't do anything wrong."

 

Rey wet her lips. "I—I know that…" She shrank back into her seat, uncomfortable.

 

"Do you?" Finn caught her eyes and held her gaze steadily. "Because you need to. I've known you a long time, Rey. I know it's not something you do lightly. That's why I'm concerned you haven't talked about it. But that doesn't mean you did anything bad."

 

"Finn…" Rey protested.

 

Finn took her hand. "C'mon. What's going on in that head of yours?" He tugged her onto the couch beside him, pulling a leg up beneath him. "Talk to me."

 

"It's really nothing." She played with the ends of her hair, twirling them back and forth. She shrugged. "I met a stranger at a bar, and I was so upset with Poe that I went home with him. I had revenge sex with someone I didn't even know."

 

"It didn't look all that revengeful to me…" Finn rested his temple on his fist, his elbow on the back of the sofa. "Revengeful? Vengeful?"

 

"I don't remember much," Rey admitted. She found threads on the blanket to tug at. She couldn't look at her friend anymore. It was just—so _hard_ to go eye-to-eye with Finn. He saw straight through you. "But I'm fine." Gripping his shoulder and squeezing, she smiled. "Thank you for asking."

 

She wasn't lying. She _was_ fine.

 

She just hadn't thought herself the type of girl to go home with someone… in a _bar_.

 

And it wasn't that she had anything against anyone else who went home with someone from a bar—she didn't judge anyone's lifestyle. But herself, personally, she rarely had sex, owing to the fact that she had to really connect with someone before she could shag them. It truly was entirely out of character for her.

 

Yet what could she do about it? It was two months ago. Over and done with.

 

_…really connect with someone before she…_

"Rey? You're blushing," Finn observed unhelpfully.

 

"Shut up," Rey said. "All right. I'm going to the bookstore, like I said. Did you want to come with me?"

 

Finn stared longingly in the direction of Skyrim and the VR.

 

"You don't have to," she laughed.

 

"No, I'll go," he sighed. "Let me guess: new Ashley Hayden book?"

 

Rey fairly sparkled.

 

"Yeah, yeah," Finn groaned. "I _guess_ we can go get your lovey-dovey piece of—"

 

"It's historical romance!" she huffed. "Specifically of the Victorian Era! And the author is a true genius! I love her work!"

 

"I _know_ ," he stressed. "I know. I've been your friend for how long?" He yanked on his Jordans. "Freakin' Ashley Hayden…"

 

* * *

 

 

The cab pulled up to the bookstore Rey occupied roughly every other day. Finn went sometimes to have a cup of joe with her. Both were coffee fiends. Both nearly worshipped the smell of books, albeit differently. Finn was more interested in graphic novels and comics than novels. They'd browse, perhaps purchase something, and go next door to the café.

 

Rey stretched as she stepped onto the curb, her messenger bag pulling tight across her chest. It was a leather fold-over Poe had gotten her for Christmas, after watching her pine for it for months. The thing had cost a pretty penny. Genuine leather, high-end brand, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

 

Poe…

 

Resolving to put him from her mind, Rey yawned and placed the ball of her fist against Finn's bicep. "The usual?"

 

He nodded. "Yup."

 

The very moment they entered the store, they took off in different directions.

 

Rey had an e-reader, but she tended to only use it for books she didn't care too much about. Ashley Hayden was different. She'd been collecting those for years. The author was big enough that her new books came out in hardback. They weren't just Victorian romance—they usually had a central theme of action involved somehow. Like there had been a trilogy about highway banditry, and some magic…

 

_Bzzzt._

Frustration rising, Rey ignored her phone. She knew who it was without looking. Poe. He'd been attempting to get a hold of her since the wedding, but… Rey… really didn't have anything to have to say to him. Not right now.

 

_"You're better than that."_

She felt bad for Finn. Finn was dying to pick her brain about the whole thing and had been keeping Poe off her back, too. He was essentially the middleman. But, wonder of wonders, he'd respected her space on this _one_ matter.

 

He knew how much she was hurting over everything that had unfolded.

 

Rey found the best-selling display and fought not to wriggle with delight. She set aside the first few copies in front, wanting one that didn't have any sort of damage to it, no matter how slight. She was very picky that way.

 

Ah! This was so good. It would really distract her. Sure, she'd tear through it in a day, but—

 

"YOU!"

 

Rey jumped.

 

Turned.

 

Nearly dropped her book.

 

It was Ben Solo.

 

She did the only thing she could think of.

 

She ran.

 

"Hey!" he yelled indignantly.

 

 _Since when are you such a coward?_ she thought.

 

She neared the aisle Finn was at. He saw her dart past—blinked—set down what he was holding when he saw her pursuer.

 

"Crap!" he cried. "Hey! Hey, you! Leave her alone!"

 

Rey committed a crime, then, entirely unintentionally.

 

She rushed out of that damn store with that book still in her hand.

 

"Awh, Rey—!" Finn shouted. "Shit… Lemme pay for that! You owe me!"

 

_Don't look back! You're committed now!_

"Rey!" Ben called. "Stop running!"

 

"No!" she tossed over her shoulder.

 

No way!

 

She reached the end of the block and bent over, panting, a cramp in her lungs so fierce that she thought she might collapse on the spot. Oh, dear Lord. When had she gotten so out of shape? She was a scrap of a thing, but that didn't speak for anything if she didn't exercise.

 

Her limbs were practically made out of jelly. She had to get them going.

 

Ben's ridiculously long legs were gaining on her.

 

He cursed behind her, having run into something. It bought her some time—time enough for a burst of adrenaline to set in. She flung herself around the corner and ran blindly down 8th. She had no idea what was in this direction. She never went this way.

 

Newspaper stands—people jogging—dog sitters out—cabs caught in traffic—

 

Oh, shite, a couple of men carrying a table down the front stairs of a townhouse!

 

She leapt clear over it.

 

She stumbled and knocked into a feeble old lady. She mumbled something of an apology, not having the breath for more. She hoped the woman wasn't hurt. She didn't know. She didn't look back.

 

"Rey, for Christ's sake!" she heard.

 

Even she wasn't sure why she was so intent on escaping.

 

_You've got this! You've almost lost him!_

Yes! An open cab!

 

She thrust a group of teenagers lollygagging by a light pole aside. She waved a hand wildly at the cab and slid onto the seat hard enough that she hit the opposite door. So close to freedom, she reached over and slammed the door she'd entered shut.

 

"Go, go, go!" she instructed the driver.

 

He gave her an odd look but pulled away.

 

Ben skidded to a stop and threw up his arms, disbelief scrawled on his face. She ducked down from the window, covered in sweat, her heart pounding so hard she was sure she was a moment away from cardiac arrest.

 

"Do I wanna know what that was about?" the cabbie asked.

 

"No," Rey gasped out around the stitch in her side.

 

"So where we headed?"

 

Rey remembered Finn and grimaced.

 

"Downtown Coruscant. You can just drop me off at Mos Eisley." No, wait. She couldn't go there. That was where Ben had taken her home. "Er—sorry. Know any good bars in that area? I'm open to suggestions."

 

"Lady, that's a _long_ list…"

 

"I'm all ears," Rey breathed.

 

Anything for a distraction.

 

* * *

 

 

"Rey, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Finn fussed at her. He hopped onto a barstool and asked for a Coors Light. "By the way, you owe me, like, twenty bucks for that thing."

 

"I'll pay you back on the Cash App. Hold on, lemme get it," she slurred. She dug into her purse, producing her phone. Her third frozen margarita was perspiring on the tiny napkin beneath it. She hummed as she pulled up the app and Finn's name. "There you go. Cha-ching."

 

Finn grumbled. "You're lucky it's happy hour."

 

"You didn't have to join me," Rey pointed out. She took a long draw of iced tequila strawberry from her straw. Oh, tequila. Tequila, tequila, tequila… It wanted you to believe it was your friend, but it really, _really_ wasn't.

 

"Yes, I did. As your best friend on duty—"

 

"Shut it, you wanker." Rey straightened up from the bar and wagged a finger at Finn. "Listen—I am _fine_."

 

"You _ran out of a store without paying for a book_ ," Finn retorted. "What did you think, that he had cooties?"

 

"Yes," Rey said. Because why not? She didn't have a good reason. That one suited her fine.

 

"Then you're really not going to want to hear this."

 

Rey's lips twitched into the beginnings of a frown. "Whatdoyoumean?" She pulled her margarita close. _Little Talks_ by Of Monsters and Men came on the speakers, the latest in a string of throwbacks. It had been overplayed on the radio to death, but she was drunk enough that she swayed slightly to the rhythm on her stool, straw in hand.

 

"I gave him your number," Finn said.

 

"WHAT?" Song forgotten, Rey put her margarita on the bar. Suddenly, she was very unhappy that she wasn't sober. "You had no right to do that!"

 

"You're acting like a crazy person!" Finn shot back. "We're at a bar at three in the afternoon, and you're hammered! You're not like—"

 

"Myself?" Rey sneered. "Maybe this is the new me."

 

Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rey… you're twenty-five, so… I'll say this as gently as I can manage. I know you're hurting over Poe… but—well: grow up."

 

_Grow up._

Grow up.

 

The words echoed in her mind on an endless loop.

 

Finn braced a hand on her shoulder. "He really wanted to talk to you. I only gave him your number 'cause he said you left something at his apartment."

 

Rey gave her sassiest eyeroll, channeling her inner Rihanna. She pushed her margarita away, signaling that she wanted water. She didn't want to drink anymore. "He tricked you. I didn't leave anything there."

 

"Either way, you gotta confront your fears. Why the hell did you run away like that?"

 

"I don't know," Rey said honestly. She laughed, burying her face in her hands. "I… I'm not ready to face him."

 

"Why?" Finn pressed. "At least tell him that so he'll leave you alone, you know?"

 

"That's… you're right," Rey said. "You're right, of course, you're right. I should tell him I don't want to talk to him. I'm acting like a child. There's no reason for me to be so dodgy."

 

"Well… I didn't want to say it like _that_ , but since _you_ did…" Finn muttered.

 

Rey smacked him lightly on the arm.

 

"What are you gonna do after this?" Finn questioned.

 

"Dunno… curl up, watch some more _Twin Peaks_? I'm off 'til tomorrow."

 

Her friend's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "You're finally gonna watch more? Yaaaaas!" He hesitated. "You're not gonna read?"

 

She thought of the book in her purse. "It won't take me too long to mow through that. I kind of want to savor it a bit."

 

"Gotcha." Finn thanked the bartender for the beer and water that was placed before them. "Well, since we're here… let's make a good afternoon out of it."

 

Rey smiled.

 

"You're such a good friend, Finn," she said.

 

"I know," he sighed theatrically.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey put Netflix on her PS4 and then got ready to curl up on her bed.

 

Her hair still damp from her shower, she grabbed her candy bar. She had a stash of Galaxy chocolate from her father's last visit to England. Now seemed as good a time as any to partake. She pulled back the sheets and blanket, fluffed up her pillows, plugged her mobile into its charger.

 

It was only then that she pulled up her text messages she'd received throughout the day.

 

Five from Poe.

 

 _Pass_ , she thought.

 

Two from Ben. She programmed his name into her contacts list.

 

_Ben Solo: It's Ben. I got your number from your friend._

_Ben Solo: Mind telling me why you're avoiding me?_

That was it, all sent hours ago.

 

Rey sank into her pillows and sighed.

 

Her fingers moved of their own volition.

 

_Me: I'm really embarrassed about earlier._

 

An answer came back so immediately, her heart skipped a beat. Was he waiting by his phone?

 

_Ben Solo: You should be._

Grrrrr!

 

This man!

 

Her fingers flew furiously over the vibrating keypad.

 

_Me: Excuse me?_

_Ben Solo: What's so repellant about me that you felt the need to run two blocks away and commit theft in the process?_

_Me: You're not repellant._

_Ben Solo: Then what the hell is it?_

_Me: I don't know!_

She threw her mobile to the other side of the bed.

 

It buzzed.

 

 _Don't answer it_ , she told herself firmly. She picked up her PS4 controller. She needed to watch more of _Twin Peaks_. It was Finn's favorite show. He really wanted to talk about it, and he always went out of the way to look into things she enjoyed. She had to return the favor.

 

But, in the end, she couldn't ignore her phone.

 

_Ben Solo: I think you're scared._

As she stared at the screen, another message zipped beneath the last.

 

_Ben Solo: We had a good time._

_Me: I don't remember anything._

_Ben Solo: Bullshit. I don't believe that for a minute._

_Me: I'm being serious!_

_Ben Solo: You forgot everything at the bar?_

He had her there.

 

_Ben Solo: Meet me tomorrow._

_Me: I have work._

_Ben Solo: When are you off again?_

_Me: None of your business._

_Ben Solo: When are you off again?_

Damn it… why was he so persistent…?

 

_Me: Saturday._

_Ben Solo: Meet me then. At Theed Park at four._

Rey exited out of his text window, her pulse flickering, making her swallow. Gathering strength, bravery, she tapped into Poe's.

 

_Poe: Rey._

_Poe: C'mon, this is weird._

_Poe: Why are you ignoring me?_

_Poe: Let's at least get lunch or something!_

_Poe: Just… text me back, okay?_

She set her alarm and put her phone back on her nightstand, plugging it back in. She eyed it for some time and then pressed play on _Twin Peaks_ , breaking off a piece of chocolate.

 

* * *

 

 

_Saturday, Approximately Four in the Afternoon_

Rey shuffled to a stop in front of Ben. He was resting beneath a tree, his back against it, a notepad open on his lap. A briefcase was keeping the other notepads he had beside him safe from the wind. Pens littered the grass, and he had ink on his fingers.

 

She'd never responded to him, and he was still…

 

"I'm here," she said, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Now what?"

 

"Two things." Ben began putting his things away. She tried not to notice the way his shirt outlined the muscles of his chest. She'd had her hands on it at some point… she'd _seen_ it bare, and… "Still want to make that guy jealous?"

 

Rey wet her lips. "…Maybe."

 

He smiled to himself. When he looked up at her, it was gone.

 

"What's the other thing?" she asked.

 

"Do you really not remember anything that happened?" He was squinting a little in the sunlight, so she moved to where he didn't have to.

 

"I don't," she replied.

 

He pushed himself to his feet. She barely had time to process that before his fingers were in her hair—holy shite, he really was so tall—and then his lips descended on hers. They were as warm and soft as they had been at the bar two months ago. Her hands came up to shove him off, but somehow that wasn't happening. They rested against his chest and stayed there.

 

"How about now?" he murmured.

 

She was growing dizzy and flushed.

 

"No," she breathed.

 

"You want me to kiss you again?" His lips brushed hers with every word as he posed the question.

 

Her eyes slipped closed.

 

She was nodding.

 

Then she shook her head. "Wait—I don't know anything about you—"

 

"You want that to change?"

 

So many questions.

 

"I…"

 

He kissed her again. She heard herself groan. His lips left hers, brushed the length of her jaw, met her ear.

 

"I've never wanted anyone the way I want you. Let me."

 

"I—" She squeezed her eyes shut. It was so difficult to think when he was close like this. "I've never—I can't have casual sex, I'm not built for it—"

 

"It's more than sex," he murmured. "I'll do whatever you want. Just don't push me away."

 

"You barely know me…" she said weakly.

 

"You keep making arguments that we can remedy." He cupped her face in his palms. This time, when he kissed her, she didn't fight it. She rose onto her tiptoes to better meet him and put less of a strain on his neck, her fingers clenched in his shirt.

 

This was madness.

 

_"I'll do whatever you want. Just don't push me away."_

He just wanted to be in her life?

 

Ben drew away, his hands cupped under her jaws, and placed a kiss to her forehead.

 

"What do you say?" he murmured.

 

What did she say?

 

What did she say…?


	3. In Her Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly smaller chapter, but for those who are regular readers of my works, you know that I pump out chapters faster because they're not very long! Anyway, I'm so glad everyone is so excited over this story, because I'm having so much fun writing it! It's only been a few days so far, but it's already a blast!

 

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

****

* * *

_You can't run this time, Rey!_

But… bloody _hell_ , how she wanted to.

 

To run and run and never look back.

 

How did he manage to make her feel this way? So completely out of control? It didn't make any sense. She'd always been so practical! One look at Ben Solo, and she went absolutely barking mad.

 

What was it? Those sharp, dark eyes that didn't miss a thing? The knowingness that lurked there? The smile that always hovered on the edges of his mouth? The way his deep voice, like the most decadent of chocolates, played over every nerve in her body and made them melt?

 

"I feel it, too, you know," he said, his eyes never once leaving hers. The smile lines in his cheeks showed as his amusement rose to the surface. It was that long mouth of his. It transformed his face into something breathtaking.

 

"This isn't funny!"

 

Total seriousness eclipsed his face. "It's far from funny."

 

"You're smiling at me."

 

"You're hard not to smile at."

 

Rey couldn't… come up with any sort of… comeback to that… All she could do was bow her head, her heart nestled oh-so-snugly in her throat. No one had said things like this to her before. She wasn't equipped to deal with it.

 

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide as they stared into his.

 

What kind of a thought was that to have? She wasn't equipped to _deal_ with it? Why not? How could she be so damaged as to not be able to handle—?

 

_"I think you're scared."_

Was it normal…? To be this afraid…? She hadn't been… "afraid" of what she felt for Poe. No, that had always been a whirlwind of pain—the painful certainty that he'd never notice, that he'd never—

 

"Why me?" she whispered.

 

"Rey." He chuckled softly. The wind picked up, rustling his hair, making the tree leaves whisper against each other and the swings nearby creak. "Why _not_ you?"

 

Her knees gave out.

 

He caught her, his eyebrows flying up in concern. "Are you okay?"

 

"Er—yeah…" Rey cleared her throat. If she had thought herself embarrassed before, it was nothing compared to this. "I… um… I can't feel my legs."

 

She gripped onto him, hoping he would catch her meaning, and this wouldn't have to be drawn out longer than it had to. And, oh, he did—the smug little smirk that appeared on his mouth showed just how _much_ he understood.

 

Ben snuggled her closer, resting his chin on her head. "You never answered me."

 

She hid her face against his shoulder. It was a safe haven from the rest of the world. "…Didn't I just do so?"

 

"Yes," he murmured into her hair. "Yes, I suppose you did."

 

* * *

 

 

The sunlight glinted off skyscraper windows as the cab rolled through traffic. Rey gazed past them, lost in thought, her lower lip between her teeth. It was nearing five in the evening. She hadn't left the park that long ago.

 

These new feelings still frightened her. They were blossoming so pleasantly and without any restraint from her heart. She meant what she'd said not an hour ago—she barely knew him. And, yes, they could "remedy" that… but not overnight. Not in the next ten minutes she'd given him before she'd made up some piss poor excuse and bolted.

 

Rey closed her eyes.

 

Beat her temple gently on the passenger window.

 

Christ.

 

Ben hadn't even given her a hard time for leaving. He'd deposited one last kiss to her forehead, said, "Okay," and returned to his spot beneath the tree. She'd stared at him for several moments, lost, and then walked away, her gait somewhat unsteady.

 

Get to know him…

 

She wanted to.

 

She really… _really_ wanted to…

 

* * *

 

 

"Poe!" Rey exclaimed.

 

"Rey!" Relieved, Poe pushed off the wall beside her door and grabbed her by the arms. "Oh, thank God! I was so worried about you!"

 

Rey wasn't ready for this.

 

She would never _be_ ready for this.

 

"You know I'm fine," she said. "Finn told you. He keeps you updated, I'm sure." Finn had all the subtlety of a child running for the ice cream truck, and he couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

 

"That's not the same thing, and you know it," Poe said severely. "Why are you avoiding me? C'mon, I deserve to know. We've been friends for… for I don't know how long, but—years. You know?"

 

"Three," Rey mumbled to her feet. "Three years…"

 

"Right! Three years!" Poe shook her gently, mock growling at her while laughing. "What's going on? You're my best friend. That hasn't changed because I'm married."

 

"Hasn't it?"

 

He drew away a little, taken aback. "What?"

 

"Nothing," Rey said quickly. "Look, there's nothing going on. I've simply been—busy." She winced inwardly. Finn would have told Poe how very _not_ busy she was, aside from work and the like.

 

The curly-haired man gave her a stern frown. "Rey."

 

"What?"

 

"I—don't _lie_ …"

 

"I'm not lying!" Rey, well… lied.

 

"Fine. You're clearly not busy now. Let's go have a drink."

 

"That doesn't seem right," Rey said, growing uneasy. "What would Rebecca think?"

 

"Then we'll take Rebecca!" Poe was laughing again, his eyes dancing with mirth. It was the sort of thing that had made Rey go floaty. Once. "She can meet us somewhere. Call Finn, we'll all go out as a foursome—"

 

"No," Rey said, pulling out of his grip.

 

It was like he'd never seen her before. " _No_? Rey, what—?"

 

Hurt.

 

He was hurt.

 

Damn it…

 

That was the one thing she couldn't quite shake—the overwhelming need to never make him sad or upset. But she couldn't do this anymore… She couldn't let this run her life. If she was going to appease him, then she'd do it on her own terms.

 

"I'll call… my boyfriend," she said. "Finn can come if he wants."

 

"Your _boyfriend_?" Poe said disbelievingly.

 

Rey had never felt more offended. She took a step forward, her hands balling into fists. " _Yes_ ," she said. "My boyfriend."

 

"You mean that guy at the bar a couple months back?" Poe raised an eyebrow. "I mean… Finn told me that you haven't seen him since then…"

 

Finn!

 

Bloody Finn!

 

If he could ever keep his damned mouth _shut_ —

 

"Of course, I told him that," Rey said, staunchly refusing to back down. She was so close to telling him to bugger off. She would do so now, if it wasn't for the need to prove to him that she could have a boyfriend perfectly well, thank you very much. "I wasn't ready to talk about it until I knew for sure."

 

"Rey…" Poe cajoled.

 

"Well, you wanted to get those drinks," she said. "Come inside. Let me change, and I'll call him. You want to go to Mos Eisley again?" As she unlocked the front door, she tossed her keys on the kitchen counter and her purse on the sofa. Poe hesitated over the threshold. "What?"

 

"Nothing." He shut the door behind him. He was rattled. It was petty to feel vindicated. Rey knew that. It didn't stop her from rejoicing slightly. How dare he laugh to her face and all but call her a liar for saying she had a boyfriend?

 

Even if she technically didn't.

 

That was beside the point!

 

There were certain things you didn't say to a lady. And while Rey was an utter tomboy, she was _still_ a lady.

 

She smiled widely at him and waved before stepping into her bedroom. There, she slipped her phone free from her back pocket and bit the bullet. There wasn't time to question herself, not with Poe in the next room. If she backed down now, she'd never be able to live with herself.

 

"Hello?" Ben answered the call with some surprise.

 

"Is that offer to make him jealous still on?" she muttered in the quietest way possible, but in a way that he would still be able to hear her. It was Poe she was worried about.

 

Ben went with it, on the same page without question. "Where do you need me?"

 

" _Stop_ sounding so… smug," she said, remembering his earlier attitude at the park. She could hear it in his voice.

 

"We both know this isn't really about making him jealous. You didn't answer the question."

 

"The same place as before. Mos Eisley. And as soon as possible. If you get there first, I won't be long." She hung up, not wanting to hear anything else from that wicked mouth of his.

 

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the door, holding the phone to her chest.

 

Her heart was pounding again.

 

And it had nothing to do with the man standing in the next room.

 

Why? She'd only called Ben for what she'd said—to make Poe jealous. To show that she could be strong without him, that she wasn't there to be at his beck and call. But when she thought of that bar, of seeing Ben there, her stomach got all fluttery. Abruptly, she grew very concerned about her hair and make-up, not only her clothes.

 

"I'll be a minute!" she yelled, and without waiting for an answer, she stepped into her bathroom to freshen up.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey, Rebecca and Finn are gonna meet us there in about half an hour. That gives us plenty of time to get downtown. So—" Poe's words trailed off.

 

Rey liked to imagine she was on a runway. She strode with the confidence of a model to the kitchen, the loose curls of her hair swinging around her face. The scent of Clinique In Bloom was a heady waft in the air. As she stretched over for her keys, the hem of her black dress rose, barely covering the curve of her arse.

 

"Uh…" Poe had to clear his throat a couple times. Rey didn't pay any attention to him, opening her silver clutch and tossing things into it. "What are you all dressed up for?"

 

She smiled at him through a long sweep of her lashes, giving her clutch a neat _snick_ closed. The dress was simple, a loose rectangle form over black tights and heels. It had a white checkered pattern near the hem and along the collar. Combined with a thin silver necklace that hugged her throat and the smoky eyes she'd given herself, she really hadn't done _too_ much.

 

_Hehe._

"For Ben, of course," she said, being honest with Poe for the first time that evening. "You ready?"

 

"Yeah…" Poe studied her closely as she locked up. "You never wear lipstick."

 

"Don't I?" she laughed. "You're beginning to hurt my feelings, Poe. It's almost as though you forgot I'm a girl."

 

"Of course, I didn't!" he said indignantly.

 

"Right, right…"

 

"I didn't!"

 

"Mhm."

 

"Rey!"

 

"A grown man, whining. I've seen it all."

 

"What's gotten into you…? Man…"

 

Rey ragged on him all the way down to the street. They hailed a taxi fairly quickly. Poe held open the door for her, ever the gentleman. Despite her confidence in the flat, she made sure that her dress was suitably covering everything as she stepped into it. She didn't actually want to flash anyone. She was too much of a prude for that.

 

Poe kept up a nonstop prattle all the way to the bar. More than once, Rey tuned out, wringing her fingers in her lap. She tried not to chew on her lip. She didn't want to ruin her lipstick or get any on her teeth. The anxiety in her stomach… It wasn't that she wasn't accustomed to that feeling—she'd gotten more than her share of it in the last three years. That didn't make it easier to bear.

 

It was… different now, though…

 

Daylight refused to release its hold on the sky even though it was pushing seven in the evening. Spring was truly in high gear. Finn and Rebecca were enjoying a smoke outside the door to their favorite bar. Ben wasn't anywhere in sight.

 

Rey's anxiety increased.

 

_He'll be inside. Calm down. Calm down._

"Hi!" Rebecca said sunnily, immediately going in for a hug.

 

"Oh—" Rey clipped a smile onto her face and patted her awkwardly on the back. It wasn't that she wasn't a hugger. She hardly knew the woman, and she'd stolen Poe from her… "You look… well."

 

"Marriage suits me, I think," the blonde chuckled.

 

"Mmm!" Rey agreed through her smile.

 

"Daaaamn, Rey!" Finn stepped in while Poe embraced his wife. He lowered his voice when he put his arm around her and spoke into her ear. "So, uh, what's this I hear about Creepy McGee being your 'boyfriend' now?"

 

"Stop calling him that, I mean it," Rey replied sternly. She had yet to drop her smile, so most of her words were coming out hissed. "Be cool, nerd."

 

"I will if you stop quoting _How I Met Your Mother_ at me," Finn hissed back through his own mega-watt smile. "While are we smiling like this again?"

 

"To show how much we support this marriage," Rey said amiably. "Now let's move in the direction of the door and hope they don't start snogging—"

 

"Oh, too late—"

 

"Lovely—"

 

"I feel like we got Botox—"

 

"Just keep it up—"

 

The smell of cigarette smoke on a new level greeted their senses, along with refreshing cool air, as Finn and Rey made it into Mos Eisley. Their aching facial muscles relaxed, and they took out their IDs. Finn asked for a pool table—Rey's eyes went straight to the bar.

 

A familiar form was at the corner, scribbling on a notepad.

 

Adrenaline hit her in a heady rush.

 

And it was like he knew it.

 

Ben looked up right at that moment and met her eyes across the room.

 

He smiled slowly, the way a predator did when it had spotted its prey.

 

As he tapped the end of his pen against his notepad, Rey gripped onto Finn's shoulder, her knees wobbling.

 

Ben's smile widened into a knowing grin.

 

_Bastard._

"Whoa—you okay, Rey?" Finn asked, grabbing hold of her and steadying her.

 

_No._

 

But she thought… that, for once, that may be all right.

 


	4. The Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about a normal chapter size for me. I would have made it longer, except that it kind of has to stay where it is. Hope everyone enjoys! Little bit NSFW. Use your own judgement! I continue to enjoy the love!

 

* * *

 

 

_To Carla_

* * *

 

"I'll be back," Rey said to Finn.

 

"No, you won't," he sighed. "I'll be over playing pool with the newlyweds. Hey… Rey?"

 

She paused, blinking at him in question. "Yeah?"

 

"…Have fun, okay?" He squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry about Mr. Obliviousness." He kissed her temple and nodded at Poe and Rebecca, jerking his head in the direction of the pool table he'd secured for the trio. Ben and Rey could join if they wanted, though that was unlikely to happen.

 

Rey cleared her throat, claiming the stool next to Ben. "Hey, stranger." She hoped he couldn't tell how nervous she was, though that was highly unlikely. He'd seen her humiliating wobble, and she hadn't done much better on the way over here.

 

"Do you want a martini?" He put his things away in his briefcase. She wondered what it was that he'd spent the day writing. Schoolwork? A job assignment? Did he write on his own time, and if so, what type of writing was it? Journalism, poetry, a novel…? It could be so many things… "What?"

 

"What?" Rey wrenched herself from her woolgathering.

 

"I asked if you wanted a martini," Ben repeated politely, which entirely belied that… stupid, _stupid_ smugness that lingered in his dark eyes.

 

"Yes," she said more breathlessly than she would have liked. Why was it that she could never seem to get air into her lungs around him? "I would, actually. I think I'll do an apple martini this time." She attempted to grab the bartender's attention, only to pause—Ben's fingers had snagged her wrist.

 

Her entire world flashed to two months ago, and she shivered all over.

 

"I've got it," he said.

 

"I don't need you ordering for me," she said.

 

He chuckled. "Maybe I just wanted to touch you."

 

Damn it, damn it, _damn it_. She would _not_ let her heart beat faster because of him. She wouldn't. "That's just a line. You were totally going to order for me."

 

"Does it matter? Let me do something nice. I want to buy you a drink."

 

"I… suppose that would be all right…" she hedged.

 

"You suppose?" His chuckle deepened, which in turn made Rey's blush follow suit. He ordered her drink along with a glass of water. At her confused glance, his joviality faded to one of those softer smiles of his. "I felt it safe to assume you didn't want to get drunk tonight?"

 

She couldn't fault him for that. "You assumed correctly, then."

 

Rather than release her hand, he lowered it to the bar, keeping it between them. His thumb stroked over her knuckles. It sent tingles shooting up her arm, whereupon it flooded through the rest of her body. How did he do it? How was his touch so hypnotic?

 

"I can't help but notice that you haven't given that guy a single glance. I was right, wasn't I? I'm not here to make him jealous. I'm here for you."

 

"Don't get cocky." Rey thanked the bartender—Richard—for the drink and took a cursory sip. It was to her liking, as usual. Her group frequented this bar often enough for it not to be any other way unless someone new was tending to customers.

 

Ben's fingers toyed with the ends of her curls. "This is pretty."

 

"Thanks…" Rey couldn't suppress a smile. She didn't say she'd done it up for him—that went unspoken.

 

"You look beautiful," he commented.

 

He'd cleaned up since the park, too. A nice button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of slacks. All black, so they matched in that regard.

 

He had that glimmer in his eyes…

 

Like he wanted to kiss her…

 

"Thanks," she whispered.

 

_Fell in love with a girl, fell in love once and almost completely, she's in love with the world, but sometimes these feelings can be so misleading!_

The White Stripes bounding all over Mos Eisley, Rey searched for the source. She found Finn near the jukebox, playing air guitar. It made her want to bang her head off the bar.

 

What a way to kill the moment!

 

_She turns and says are you all right? I said I must be fine 'cause my heart's still beating! Come and kiss me by the riverside, Bobby says it's fine, he don't consider it cheating!_

Rey was giggling. She couldn't make it stop. It was only that Finn was so entertaining to watch. He was jumping around, ridiculous as hell, really going at it with that fake guitar of his. She smothered her laughter against her wrist, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

"He's completely mental," she gasped.

 

"You have interesting friends," Ben noted.

 

"Yeah," Rey snickered. "I really, really do."

 

"Is it all right that I'd rather sit here with you instead of play pool with your friends?" he asked, studying her intently.

 

She sobered, considering him for an extended length of time. He didn't cow away from it. If anything, it only made him more determined. He laced their fingers together and regarded her with something that wasn't quite patience. No… No, she wouldn't call him a patient man. He maintained that appearance very well, but there was… a well of emotion there if only she was brave enough to dig deeper.

 

"It is," was her ultimate conclusion. She reached for the bowl of peanuts with her free hand. "How old are you?"

 

"Thirty-five. You?"

 

"Twenty-five… An even ten years. How about that?" He was thirty-five? He didn't really look it… "You have amazing skin. Are you really thirty-five?"

 

"Want to see my license?"

 

He had her giggling again. "No, I'll take you at your word." She drank more of her martini, but she really wasn't overly committed to it. Ben was far more fascinating. "What are you drinking?"

 

"Johnny Walker."

 

"I heard that's really smooth."

 

He nudged his glass toward her.

 

She lifted her eyebrows. "Really?" He nodded. "Well, all right." Down the scotch went. Her eyes watered, and she choked, but she manfully kept it on the subtle side. A smear of lipstick was the sole evidence she'd shared his drink at all. "Mmm. Yes. That's amazing."

 

Johnny Walker was expensive, so—"amazing" would be a proper term, wouldn't it? Rey didn't know. She drank very girly things. That had been her first foray into the land of scotch. She hadn't liked it and did at the same time. Must have been the burn.

 

Ben retrieved his drink. "You're a shit liar, did you know that?" Merriment crinkled the corners of his eyes.

 

"Hey," she said flatly. "What happened to not insulting me?"

 

Both hands wrapped around the glass of scotch, Ben leaned over, his lips brushing her ear. "The truth hurts."

 

Oh—

 

His teeth worked the edge of her earlobe.

 

Oh…

 

Rey swallowed, fighting to recall what she'd been about to argue. "There are kinder ways to tell the truth." Was that her, her voice high-pitched, strangled with arousal? And with so little done on his end.

 

"Maybe I'm just a cruel bastard." He nuzzled the tip of her ear and withdrew.

 

"No," she whispered, holding his gaze. "I don't think you're cruel at all."

 

Something hidden flashed behind his eyes as he stroked her jawline. "You're the first to say so. But… you're different."

 

"What do you mean?" Every rub of that thumb was sending heat to prickle straight to her… no. No! She couldn't be thinking of that right now. No.

 

The pad of his thumb tugged on her lower lip. "You're different," he repeated. "I have to go. I have a deadline. This was nice."

 

"Deadline?" Disappointment fell through Rey, and she was entirely unprepared to handle it. She—she hadn't thought they'd part ways so soon.

 

"Yeah. But don't worry… I won't leave you in a bind." On his feet, Ben slid his fingers into her hair and tilted her head up. Her hand rested over his heart, her eyes closing. She was rewarded with hot lips on hers, and he didn't end it with a simple peck this time. His tongue brushed over hers, and she didn't think she'd ever learn to breathe again.

 

He made her skin tight all over… made her warm in places…

 

The urge to take his hand and place it between her thighs was so strong it shook her. She stopped touching him.

 

"He's looking again. Mission accomplished, hm?" Ben lingered with three more kisses, each longer, deeper than the last, each carrying a hint of tongue. Rey had to fight to keep in her seat, to not lean up and glue herself to his front and do highly inappropriate things for an unwilling audience.

 

"Who's looking?" Rey asked dazedly. "Oh."

 

Ben was smugger than ever.

 

"I thought so," he said. "Text me that you got home safely."

 

And then he was gone, briefcase in hand.

 

Rey touched her fingers to her lips and wished fervently that she was alone. She'd be able to do something about her taut nipples and the heat spooled between her thighs.

 

She found the glass of water Ben had ordered for her and began to chug it down. It was the closest that she could come to a cold shower.


	5. Cookie Dough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are!

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

The clang of Rey's épée meeting Finn's rang repeatedly throughout the practice room. As she was an instructor and Finn had only a basic concept of fencing, she was kicking his arse. That was entirely the point. She had a lot to vent about.

 

"Rey!" Finn cried. "Go easy, man!"

 

"No!" she panted behind her mask. She'd carelessly let herself get out of shape, and now she was paying the price for it. Not that it would make a difference to Finn. "You need to learn when to keep your trap shut!"

 

"Man, c'mon!" He parried, barely keeping her at bay, but also backing up, unable to hold his ground. "We're all best friends! And it was a while ago! He asked if you saw that guy again, and I said no! So sue me!"

 

"I don't want Poe to know _anything_!" Rey swiped. Finn literally ducked beneath her épée and made a run for it. "Finn! Get back here!"

 

"Catch me if you can!"

 

Grrr…

 

Rey flew after him, pissed off enough to cut his feet out from under him with a leg swipe. He hit the ground, his épée flung off to the side. Rey yanked off her mask at the same time he did, her face flushed. Finn's was covered in sweat.

 

"This is beginning to feel very personal," Finn rasped, his hands held up in surrender.

 

"It _is_!" Rey shouted, frustrated. She put her free hand on her hip and bowed her head. She could feel where her hair was plastered to it in its messy bun. "Finn… don't tell Poe anything from now on! It's none of his business!"

 

"Okay, okay!" Finn returned. "Geeze…"

 

She kicked his leg. "Don't 'geeze' me!"

 

"WOMAN!" Finn burst. "Watch the violence!"

 

"I'll show you violence…!"

 

"Oh, God, no, I take it back—Rey—no—come on—I'm so ticklish—please—"

 

"Ahem."

 

Rey gasped and stood up so fast she almost tripped over her own two feet. She gave Finn a murderous expression, something along the lines of, "I can't believe you invited Ben here!" His response was an emphatically silent, " _Bish_ , face your fears! I'm tired of hearing you whine about it!"

 

A mental round of épée began, firing off in quick succession.

 

_I don't whine that much!_

_You whine enough!_

_That doesn't mean—_

"Sorry to interrupt," rumbled Ben's wry baritone. "But I was under the impression that you were done with work for the day."

 

 _Yeah, and who_ gave _him that impression?_

_Well,_ you _sure weren't doing anything!_ Someone _had to take action!_

"Is there a reason the two of you are making faces at each other, or…?"

 

"Yeah, Rey's a little bit of a scared-y—" He broke off at the light blow to his stomach, coughing. His voice grew strained. "She's wonderful. Perfect. Like an angel. Lights up the sky. Real killer."

 

"I—ah—I didn't know you were going to be here," Rey said. She desperately wished she wasn't sticky with sweat and kitted out in fencing gear. "I wasn't prepared, so…"

 

She didn't like it when he cropped up out of nowhere. It completely threw her off guard. He made her world tilt, and she had to prepare for that. She could barely deal with him when she _was_ prepared. Her wobbly knees were a testament to that, though they were behaving for the moment.

 

Finn sprung to his feet, taking his mask with him. "I'ma go get changed… and then head out. See you, Rey." He clapped her on the shoulder and took off.

 

Tricksy bastard—

 

"This is kind of… interesting." Ben had that predatory smile on his face again. Rey fumbled, bumping into a column. She used it to hold her up. The room was ancient, as ancient as the rest of the university, and it was styled accordingly. Columns were a regular sight.

 

She folded her arms and tried to lean on it in a way that suggested it was on purpose. The last thing he needed fed was his ego.

 

Oh, who was she fooling? He knew.

 

"Interesting?" she echoed.

 

"Finn said you were a fencing instructor…" He tucked his hands into his front pockets and rolled onto the toes of his shoes. He was dressed casually again, a comfortable T-shirt, equally comfortable jeans. "I guess I had to see it to believe it."

 

"Oh… well…" Rey played with the mesh of her mask. "This is me. This is what I do. Heh… now you know."

 

"I haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he said, blazing right past the small talk. "You're not avoiding me again, are you?"

 

"No." She walked across the room, engaged in the process of taking off her gear. "You… haven't exactly texted me, either."

 

"Because you're like a skittish horse. I have no idea what the hell is gonna set you off." He curved his lips into something that wasn't quite a smirk.

 

"Then what are you doing here now?" Rey hated that she'd thrown on athletic wear before she left her apartment to meet Finn. She wanted to be… she didn't know. Not like this. Prepared. Pretty. Right now, she was gross and could only hope that her deodorant was holding up.

 

He shrugged one shoulder. "I missed you. Finn talks. A lot. By the way, do you know how to make him shut up?"

 

"No," Rey deadpanned. "We've been trying to figure out the secret to that for years and haven't been able to come up with anything. I mean, _pot_ makes him chattier. I was in the emergency room with him once, and he got a shot of morphine, and _that_ made him run on and on for hours."

 

She was speaking so casually with him. That was new. It made the back of her neck flush. "Ah… I've got to get all of this together. What did you want?"

 

"Seeing y—"

 

"Besides seeing me!"

 

He tugged on her bun, earning a slap to his wrist. "You wanted to know more about me, right?"

 

Rey stalled. "I… don't remember… saying that _exactly_ …"

 

"There's an ice cream place near here that I like. Want to take a walk?"

 

"An ice cream place?" She huffed at that, fussing with putting the gear back where it belonged. "You don't strike me as the sort to get ice cream and walk through the city."

 

His voice was closer than she had initially thought when it shivered over her neck. "What do I strike you as, then?" He snugged an arm around her waist, anticipating her fall. She was both grateful and resentful. "Tell me."

 

"I…" Words had left her. She struggled to find them—she knew they were in there _somewhere_. But she could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke, and she… she… "I don't know. That's part of the problem."

 

He cupped her chin with his forefinger and tilted it up to make her look at him. His smile lines were evident, accompanying that irritating amused twinkle in his eyes. "You can't figure it out if you're avoiding me."

 

"I _wasn't_ —"

 

"Avoiding me. You said."

 

"Then don't make me repeat myself."

 

His face inched closer to hers. She inhaled, her hand bracing on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed. She could feel his lips… any moment now, and he'd…

 

He kissed the corner of her mouth and drew away. "If you don't want ice cream, then what? I'm open to suggestions." His grin was a little too devilish for her liking, and she pushed a bit at his shoulder in passing. He fell after at his own measured pace.

 

 _I'll just bet you are_. Rey picked up her gym bag and slung it over her shoulder. "I look like shite. You should recognize the signs. You pointed it out to me twice."

 

Ben said nothing as they walked through the corridors of the University of Coruscant. A few professors waved in greeting, which Rey returned with a nod of her head. She was taking classes here, too. When she wasn't holding fencing lessons, she was working on… some sort of degree. Her major was undecided.  

 

She enjoyed fencing. She just wasn't sure if she wanted it to be her career.

 

Fine time to learn it. Twenty-five, and already so much time dedicated to the sport…

 

Rey dug out her sunglasses. It was bloody bright outside. She had no idea how her retinas hadn't seared off.

 

Ben was her constant shadow.

 

Rey walked across half the campus, wondering if she said nothing, he'd get the hint and go away. She… She needed _time_ to prepare to be around him. And not to mention a shower! The man was oozing game—everyone's head was turning—meanwhile, she was Pig Pen from Charlie Brown, an athletic mess.

 

Argh! Why had Finn thought that would be a good idea?!

 

She stopped near a fountain. Students laughed amongst themselves or chatted on their mobiles. Ben halted a foot away from her, head tilted in question.

 

"Can I change first?" she asked exasperatedly.

 

"Is it important to you?" he replied.

 

That threw her. "What do you mean?"

 

"I'm fine with you how you are. You're fucking beautiful, I told you," he said bluntly. "But if it'll make you feel better to change, sure." He leaned in suddenly, an impish smile crossing his mouth.

 

"What?" she asked warily, clutching onto the strap of her gym bag.

 

"I'll know where you live," he drawled. "Sure you want that…?"

 

"We can go now!" she said half-hysterically. No! Absolutely not! Out of the question! "Right! Which ice cream shop? Lead the way!"

 

When had she turned into such a _spaz_?

 

Ben's laughter trailed behind her, a promising warmth in her heart.

 

If only she let it.

 

He took her hand, holding it loosely between them as they strolled.

 

She let him.  

 


	6. Sprinkles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you won't be surprised. Hopefully, some of you will be! Uh… slight NSFW language warning.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

  

"Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate chip?"

 

"It's bloody delicious."

 

"I'll have to take your word for it."

 

"Don't like chocolate?"

 

"Oh, I like chocolate." Ben eyed her triple-scoop ice cream. "In reasonable amounts."

 

"You're missing out," Rey said around a mouthful of chocolate great enough to put her into a sugar coma. She was making a grand attempt to be dainty enough to not get an ice cream moustache, but she could make no promises with herself. This was her bliss.

 

And she was going to eat the Whole. Damned. Thing.

 

She noticed Ben was fidgeting. He never fidgeted. The man _exuded_ confidence. "What?"

 

"Nothing." He cleared his throat and took a bite out of his waffle cone. Vanilla with sprinkles. Surprisingly ordinary for an individual far beyond it.

 

 _Hmmm…_ "No. I want to know."

 

"I can't."

 

"Why not?" The sun was beginning to sink beneath the clouds. City lights were coming on everywhere, from lampposts to signs to headlights to office windows. The sounds that normally protruded were faint, due to their walk through Theed Park. It was relaxing, mostly because Ben's presence was intimidating enough to warn off troublemakers.

 

Rapists, muggers, the like.

 

"You'll be angry." A pointed crunch to the cone. He suddenly found the skyline very fascinating.

 

"Er…" _Hmmmmmmm…_ "What if I promise I won't?"

 

He swallowed a chuckle. "You will."

 

Rey rolled her eyes and fought the urge to smash her chocolate into his face. _So_ aggravating… No one else vexed her this much! How did he do it? "If you want to be in my life, you have to trust me. I said I promise I won't get angry."

 

"Now I definitely don't want to tell you," he laughed.

 

"Ben—"

 

He grasped her elbow and lightly tugged her into his body. She moved her ice cream out of the way so his shirt wouldn't get smeared, concentrated on that action so that she didn't twist over her own two feet for once. That didn't matter in the next moment—standing upright was important when your knees lost all feeling in them.

 

His lips pressed to her ear, his voice a dark murmur. "Every time I see you flick your tongue like that, I think about the way it looked around my cock. Those cute little moans you're making aren't helping, either."

 

Chocolate smashed into the sidewalk.

 

Rey backed away. Ben let her go, nibbling on the edge of his cone. The way he did it was like he was telling her he wished it was the curve of her ear.

 

"You promised you wouldn't get angry," he half-sang in a low tone.

 

The problem was, she was far from angry.

 

Embarrassed, yes.

 

Wanted to run away again, yes.

 

So turned on it was almost painful, yes, yes, yes.

 

Angry?

 

No.

 

Remembering to breathe, Rey ducked her head down to buy time to figure out what expression she wanted to wear. She'd lost her ice cream, but it had missed their clothes and shoes. That was fortunate. Regrettable—she'd been enjoying that treat—but it could have been worse.

 

"I did that?" she blurted. She cupped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.

 

Ben shrugged. "Maybe. You forgot that night, didn't you?"

 

 _Did I or didn't I?_ Rey swallowed the snip just as it reached the tip of her tongue. She had. She knew that down to the marrow of her bones, knew it as surely as the blood rushing to heat her cheeks.

 

"…You should be honored," Rey said.

 

Her companion's brows rose. "Should I?"

 

"Yes. I never do that. To _anyone_." Rey took his ice cream cone swiftly from his hand and swiped her tongue over the vanilla. Begh. Nowhere close to how good hers was, but it was his fault she'd dropped her cone.

 

"Reaaaally?" Ben drawled. He made no remark on the fact that she'd stolen his treat.

 

"No. Haven't wanted to. Never been pressed on it."

 

A desire to be evil tickled the back of her thoughts.

 

 _No._ She shouldn't.

 

She let her tongue run the length of the vanilla in a slow, purposeful fashion, more of a graze than anything else. To be truthful, she had no idea what the hell she was doing. She hadn't lied. She'd never given head before (and she'd had very few partners).

 

Regardless, it worked.

 

He hissed in a breath. "Tease."

 

"I believe we established that already," she hummed innocently. "Well, you know what I do for a living now. What about you? What do you do?"

 

"I write," he replied.

 

And that was it.

 

"Care to elaborate…?"

 

"I write novels," Ben elucidated.

 

"What—really?" Excitement ran through Rey in a tremor. She loved to read. He wrote novels? "That's amazing! You said you had a deadline the last time I saw you… So you must be published."

 

"I am," he confirmed.

 

"BEN!"

 

"Speak of the devil," he muttered.

 

"BEN SOLO, YOU SLOW DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

 

Rey and Ben turned. A woman was barreling at them, and she barely skidded to a stop in time to avoid them. She had short, sandy brown hair and dark eyes. The only reason Rey even knew she was a woman was because of the high pitch of her voice. She was androgynous as hell and was wearing a man's suit, tailored to fit her small frame.

 

Another lover…?

 

"We—had an agreement!" The newcomer bent over, grasping her side, sucking in huge gulps of air.

 

"Noelle…"

 

"That's Mrs. Quinn, Solo!" 'Noelle' thrust a finger at Ben with a purely venomous look.

 

"We've known each other for years. Stop being dramatic." Ben sighed. "I have the chapter—I'll email it to you tonight. I finished it this morning."

 

"You were supposed to finish it a _week_ ago, and then you straight-up _vanished_ , you selfish asshole!" Noelle thundered. "It's lucky for me that you frequent this park so gall-damned much, or I wouldn't have been able to find you!" She poked him in the chest, punctuating each prod with a word. "Don't! Ignore! Your! Editor!"

 

Editor?

 

Unexpected relief swept through Rey.

 

"Is it customary for editors to hunt down their writers like this?" she wondered aloud.

 

"It is when it's Ben Solo!" the other woman exclaimed. She glared murderously up at the tall man. "You! Don't disappear!" She hesitated, glanced at Rey.

 

Rey blinked back at her.

 

Noelle cupped a hand over her mouth and whispered loudly. "You didn't say you were seeing someone. Tell me all about it later! Okay! Ciao!"

 

 _Shoooooooooom_.

 

"She runs really fast," Rey murmured.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Really intense…"

 

"Can't disagree."

 

Rey came to stand before him. "Now I'm more curious than ever!" She was waving her cone around. Conscious of it, she winced and removed it from the splash zone. "I've never seen your name anywhere. What genre do you write?"

 

"Actually…" He wet his lips. "You… kind of did see my name."

 

She had? When?

 

"No, I'd definitely remember…" She furrowed her brows, genuinely unable to recall seeing his name on a shelf somewhere. She read rather broadly. Even if it had been some time ago, she would have made the name association the night they'd met.

 

"It's not under my real name." His stature shrunk a little. Nerves? Odd. Yet another thing she'd never seen from him.

 

"All right…" That would make sense, then. Her curiosity spread like wildfire. Who could he possibly be? She almost wanted to play a guessing game first. "Who do you write under, then?"

 

"Ah…" He tucked his thumbs into his front pockets and wouldn't look at her.

 

Why?

 

"Ben?"

 

"When you were at the bookstore, the day you ran away from me… what book did you steal?"

 

"Firstly, that book _wasn't_ stolen, it was paid for—" She trailed off as her memories migrated to the moment in question.

 

No…

 

No way!

 

There was no—

 

Or could there…?

 

She gasped.

 

She was shocked, afraid—

 

Excited.

 

A squeal left her lips, uncaring of how much she wanted to keep it in.

 

"You're Ashley Hayden!"


	7. Twenty Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm so glad everyone had such a positive response to the last chapter! The journey continues!
> 
> I wanted to make a note for anyone who reads The Bond That Ties Us: I am currently rereading/editing the story because we're approaching the climax. I want to make sure that I've got everything consistent and lined up.
> 
> Some disclaimers: I do not own Muse's Time Is Running Out. I also borrowed an article from Elite Daily, and that link can be found here: https://www.elitedaily.com/p/20-deep-questions-to-ask-your-crush-during-a-game-of-20-questions-2930739. It's mentioned and credited entirely in the chapter.
> 
> Slight NSFW in this chapter! Read at your own discretion!

 

 

* * *

 

_For Carla_

 

* * *

 

 

 

"Ah…" Ben rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "…Yeah, actually."

 

This was so—

 

Rey fought the urge to jump up and down. She was _not_ twelve-years-old. She did, on the other hand, throw her arms around him. Two things happened in quick succession. The first: she lost the ice cream cone. The second: she remembered that she hadn't showered since the fencing match with Finn.

 

She immediately put five feet between them.

 

Ben's arms hovered awkwardly. They were paused mid-motion in returning her hug.

 

She swallowed. "Hey, so… I… I—I'll meet you back here in an hour!"

 

"What—Rey!"

 

"I will, I promise!"

 

She jogged off, grateful when he didn't follow. It meant he trusted her—or, at least, was taking her at her earlier word. But he didn't have anything to worry about.

 

She was most assuredly coming back.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey got back to her flat as quickly as she could. She stripped on the way to the shower. She scrubbed herself near raw, blow-dried her hair, attacked it with a flat iron. Barest bit of make-up—a black blazer over a simple white shirt with skinny jeans. Flats that she skipped into one-handed while pawing for her keys.

 

Blowing strands of hair out of her eyes, she finished stuffing her toes into both shoes. For the first time since she'd left the park, nerves tangled in her stomach. She clasped her empty hand over it, lowering her chin to her chest and closing her eyes. It wasn't that the anxiety was unfamiliar; that was a frequent friend where it concerned Ben. But it had a different flavor now.

 

Now she—really, _really_ cared about how he saw her.

 

Oh, how the tides had turned.

 

She called Finn on the way down to the street.

 

"Yo!" he answered on the first ring. "What's up? You ditch him already?"

 

"No! Oh, my God, Finn!" She was speaking in a hushed voice, and she didn't even know why. No one was around—Ben wouldn't hear her confiding his secret to the man on the mobile. But, by all that was holy, she had to tell _someone_! "You're never going to believe this!"

 

"I have bruises on my ribs, Rey!"

 

She hopped into the back of a cab and directed them to Theed Park. "Yes, and we may discuss that at great length later."

 

"Rey Kenobi—!"

 

"Finn!" Rey cast a furtive glance at the driver, who was humming to some 80s hair band. He wasn't paying attention. Excellent. "Ben is _Ashley Hayden_!"

 

"—I can't believe you would just ignore how you—… wuh… say what?"

 

"He's Ashley Hayden!"

 

"Whaaaaaa? No!"

 

"He is!"

 

"Whaaaaaaaaaa? No!"

 

Rey's eyes narrowed. "If you're done joking?"

 

"Okay, but, seriously, he _is_? Damn, girl, that's crazy!" Finn trilled. "What are you gonna do?!"

 

She wasn't sure she liked how he'd asked that question. "What do you mean, what am I _going to do_?"

 

"I mean, are you gonna… you know?"

 

"Finn!" Rey half-shrieked.

 

"All right, all right! I'm sorry! You're such a prude, Rey! I was joking. What are you doing talking to _me_ right now, anyway? Isn't Ashley Hayden your idol?"

 

"Well, I was—soaked through!" Rey argued. "I went to freshen up, I'm on my way back to meet him now!"

 

"Freshen up." Finn snorted.

 

"What?"

 

"You know what."

 

"No." Rey set her jaw. "I don't. _What_?"

 

"Gurl, you know you're going to hit that. All right, I'm gonna let you fight the good fight. Let me know all the details later!"

 

_Click._

 

Why did wanting to be clean equate wanting to have sex?

 

Honestly!

 

* * *

 

 

Instead of being camped out beneath a tree, Ben had found a nice bench to rest on. He was on his back, his eyes closed, his hands folded over his stomach, completely unconcerned about anything dire happening to his person. How could he have such a casual disregard for his safety? Was he that confident he could defend himself?

 

She found this both attractive and stupid. Attractive, because the idea of Ben defending himself against hooligans was… hot. Stupid, because—well, that was self-explanatory.

 

"I could attack you," she said.

 

He didn't open his eyes as he replied, "You could. It wouldn't end well."

 

"Is that so?"

 

"Yes. I have a black belt." Ben sat up, pushing his fingers through his hair to make it fluff up. He rested his forearms on his thighs, his fingertips touching between them. "Although, I saw you fence. I wouldn't want to be around you when you're armed."

 

She laughed. "That's not precisely an everyday weapon."

 

He cracked a grin. "Regardless."

 

"A black belt, huh?" Since he wasn't getting up, Rey perched next to him on the bench. "Really?"

 

"I wouldn't lie to you. Anyone else, I would. But not you. Never you." His eyes roamed over the park. Searching for shady individuals?

 

"Why is that, exactly…?" Rey bit into her lower lip, chewing for a moment. The taste of her lip gloss—birthday cake—crossed her tongue. "You barely know me."

 

"I don't know." He put both of his elbows on his knees and shoved his hands into his hair. He kept his head down. A snort left him, mixed in with a self-deprecating snicker. He exhaled through his nose. "I've thought about it over and over again, and I haven't been able to come up with anything."

 

"Really?" Rey's heart fluttered. It was irritating, mostly because it made her glad she was sitting down. She wasn't sixteen! The madness had to end! Now, if only she could get her body to comply…

 

"Yeah." He laced his slender fingers together, took a moment to gather his composure, and then looked her directly in the eyes. "I've meant everything I've said. Let's pretend… that you _don't_ know my pen name…"

 

 _That's going to be hard_ , she thought.

 

"…Would you still mind letting me into your life more?"

 

"I wouldn't."

 

Shite.

 

Why had she said that?

 

"I—" But she couldn't make herself take the words back. She tucked her hair behind her ears and wished she'd had the foresight to bring a hairband. "It's… been a long time since I felt this way. I've been in love with Poe for forever…" She shook her head, trailing off.

 

"Are you ready to admit that you don't care about making him jealous anymore?"

 

_No._

_"Rey… you're twenty-five, so… I'll say this as gently as I can manage. I know you're hurting over Poe… but—well: grow up."_

 

Rey got to her feet, too restless to sit there. Ideally, were she on her own, she'd pace. She wasn't going to do that in front of him. He must have already thought she was a spaz. "If I said I was?"

 

"I'll do whatever you want," he said, echoing his words from the Saturday afternoon in this very park. "Even if you don't want to admit it. All I ask is that you stop running away from me."

 

She put her fists on her hips, tapping the toe of her flat against the grass. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She often had this problem. "I mean…" She laughed softly. "You—you told me that you were… that you're basically my idol. I—I can't run away from that."

 

That wasn't what he wanted to hear, though.

 

Rey rolled her head back, watching the night sky begin to spread its claws through the clouds. "Honestly… I'm tired of running. Even—even if you weren't my idol. Christ." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's like I'm in the middle of a Muse song."

 

"A Muse song?" Despite it being an odd thing to say, he was curious. "Which one?"

 

"Don't worry about it."

 

 _I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated, I want to break the spell that you've created… You're something beautiful, a contradiction, I want to play, I want the friction… You will be the death of me… Yeah, you will be the death of me…_ ran through her mind.

 

"No, tell me," he insisted.

 

"Time Is Running Out," she muttered.

 

Under the impression he hadn't heard her, she gulped in the cooling evening air. But when she shook her head and decided to change the subject, she saw the evil little smile at the corner of his mouth.

 

Damn it.

 

"That's old-school Muse," he commented. She shivered, prompting him to say, "Let's go somewhere warm."

 

"Like where?"

 

"Where do you want to go?"

 

"That's such a complicated question," she laughed, conflicted to her core.

 

"Why?" He crept closer into her personal bubble.

 

Rey was never able to breathe when he was so near to her. She put her hands in her back pockets so that she wouldn't be tempted to touch him.

 

"I…" she breathed.

 

"Come to my place," he said.

 

"What?! No!" She covered her blushing face with her hands. There went _that_ tactic.

 

"You like my books, right?" He traced a fingertip along her hairline—toyed with a strand of her hair. Her knees, predictably, went numb. She was proud of herself when it didn't show. "I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to."

 

Rey eyed him dubiously.

 

For the first time, a flicker of impatience showed on his face. "You want me to trust you? It goes both ways."

 

"All right." She swallowed so hard it hurt. Stupid lump clenching her throat. "We can go there." She held up a finger. "But on the way, we play twenty questions!"

 

He kissed her temple. "If that's what you want."

 

Legs.

 

Not working.

 

He grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder.

 

"Oi!" she cried. "Put me down!"

 

"But it's proven to be effective."

 

"I don't care!"

 

His laughter was deep and resonated just as deeply in her heart. After traveling a few feet, he set her down, and she smoothed her clothes out, scowling at him. The only good thing that had come out of that was that she could stand without aid again.

 

"You should know something," he said. It took only a moment to hail a cab. Rey mused that whenever it concerned Ben, she got exceptionally lucky with cabs being available. Normally, it was a struggle.

 

"What?"

 

He gestured she enter the vehicle first.

 

Once they were both situated and the door was shut, he answered her. "No one knows anything about me, and I prefer to keep it that way."

 

Rey wavered. Should she take back her demand about twenty questions?

 

He gripped her hand and squeezed. "I _want_ to tell you."

 

Rey's throat constricted anew. "See, it's when you say those kinds of things that I grow fearful."

 

"Why?" His head listed slightly to the side.

 

"I think you know why." Had he ever thought about playing the piano? His fingers were so—

 

_Rey's cries rang in her ears as she clutched at the sheets of Ben's bed. His elbow rested near her head as his hand played between her thighs. She was wet, considerably so, and when his fingers scissored, her hips bucked into him. He kissed her to muffle her moans, his thumb sliding up to her clit, rubbing fiercely._

It took everything she had to sit there and not throw herself out the other side of the cab. Half of the reason was because the car was already on its way to Ben's flat.

 

A fragment of that drunken night had returned to her.

 

"What is it?" he asked in a way that told her he knew _exactly_ what had happened.

 

"N-Nothing." Flustered, she kept a steady hold on his hand. Releasing it would be another show of weakness. She _refused_ to allow that. "You were saying that you didn't mind telling me about yourself?" Argh, a segue straight back into what she'd stated made her afraid.

 

Her head was fit to combust any moment now.

 

"Yes. And you were saying that it terrified you."

 

"I'm just not—" She shut her eyes, searching for the words. She wasn't as eloquent with them as he was. She wasn't the writer. "…I've never been… special to anyone before. This is new territory for me. All right?"

 

And that wasn't even including the fact that he was Ashley Hayden!

 

Ashley bloody Hayden!

 

"No one's ever been special to me before," he replied.

 

"Do you get these smooth lines because you write romance?" she asked. Historical romance with plenty of action to go around, but, at the end of the day, still romance.

 

"They're not lines," he said. "Do you want to go first?"

 

"All right…" She cleared her throat. "Parents?"

 

"Alive. Together. Yours?"

 

"Dead. Abandoned me. I have an adoptive father. Favorite color?"

 

"Green."

 

"Really? I could have sworn it was black. That's all you wear."

 

"You wear it a lot, too. Is it yours?"

 

Touché.

 

"No. I really like blue. Favorite book?"

 

" _The Giver._ "

 

Hm. Interesting. "I read it when I was twelve. It's rather good."

 

"It's the best goddamn book on this planet." He said it so matter-of-factly that Rey knew it was useless to argue about the good and the greats of the past. "You?"

 

Rey ducked her head. This line of questioning hadn't been wise on her end. "…Er… well… it's one of yours, actually…"

 

She had the delight of watching the tips of his ears turn red.

 

"Where were you born?" she asked, breezing past the actual title. She'd gotten the impression that he grew embarrassed whenever his work was brought up in such a fashion.

 

"Here in Coruscant."

 

"Raised here, too?"

 

"I've traveled a lot. Britain?"

 

"What?"

 

"You. Is that where you born?"

 

"Oh." Rey chuckled at herself. "Yes. We came here years ago for my father's work." Catching the look in his eye, she said, "And since you're going to ask me about his work, I'll ask _you_ about what your parents do first, since it's my turn."

 

"My father's a contractor and my mother's a senator."

 

"A senator?" She was suitably impressed. Not wanting to get into politics, she answered what he'd wanted to hear. "My father's an anthropologist. He received an offer from Ilum."

 

"That's a major Ivy League."

 

"Right. I see him on holidays. Your favorite movie?"

 

" _A Quiet Place._ "

 

"Don't—make fun of me—"

 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare…"

 

She glowered at him.

 

He grinned lazily.

 

"Mine is _Tristan & Isolde_."

 

"James Franco?"

 

"He was so fit, and he really knows how to cry!" Rey giggled. "I preferred it when he was slender. But it was truly a good movie, in my opinion." She leaned into her seat. "Favorite show?"

 

" _Parks and Rec_."

 

"Ron Swanson?"

 

"April."

 

"Must be the sarcasm."

 

"And her general aloofness. Let me try and guess yours." He turned her palm over and traced her lifelines. Just when she'd gotten comfortable, too! Bastard. Did he want her to get hot and bothered enough to jump him?

 

Stupid question. Deserved a stupid answer.

 

"I suppose…"

 

" _The Handmaid's Tale._ "

 

"Close," she said, privately impressed. It was on the list.

 

" _The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel._ "

 

"Going for topical?"

 

He went in the reverse. " _The Office_."

 

Rey shifted.

 

Ben smirked. "Which version?"

 

"I enjoy both," she replied stiffly. "Is dystopian your favorite genre?"

 

"It's an exception. I generally enjoy literary fiction." He veered into a different subject by pulling out his phone. "I'm running out of questions. Here. Elitedaily.com. '20 Deep Questions To Ask Your Crush During A Game Of 20 Questions,' by Cosmo Luce." All said with complete seriousness.

 

"Was that the first thing that popped up in Google?" she asked incredulously.

 

"It was near it. All right." He scrolled. "Have you ever dined and dashed at a restaurant?"

 

"No." Rey was horrified. "You?"

 

"Eh. The thought's crossed my mind, but no. Oh, goodie, here's one." She loved the layer of sarcasm he was able to incorporate into his tone that wasn't entirely dry. "If you could star in a movie, what movie would it be?"

 

Rey had to think about that one for a moment. He was still stroking her palm with his free hand, providing an unhelpful distraction. "…Can I change it to a TV show?"

 

"Sure."

 

She nodded decisively. " _Gilmore Girls_." She was prepared for his eyeroll and thus was not offended.  "You? Movie?"

 

" _Jurassic Park_. That movie scared the shit out of me when I was a kid."

 

"So the old one?"

 

"I tend to prefer the classics. Are platonic relationships or romantic relationships more important to you?"

 

Rey took her time to answer this one, as well. She hadn't been in very many romantic relationships. Of course, she'd spent years pining after Poe, but… "I suppose it's platonic, but—it's only because that's what I'm used to. Not because I want it to be that way."

 

"I feel the same," he said with a faint smile. Then his eyes brightened with mischief. "You'll know the answer to this one for me. Even though the world has its problems, was any time period better than this one?"

 

"It's not World War II? I always hear about World War II from people."

 

"Is that yours?"

 

"No. We have the same answer again."

 

"What was your favorite dinosaur as a child? Mine was a raptor."

 

"Everyone's is a raptor," Rey sighed.

 

"They're scary as fuck. And, if you're interested in paleontology, there's an interesting history there. You didn't answer the question."

 

"I liked Littlefoot from _The Land Before Time_?"

 

He chuckled. "Would you rather someone always tell the truth or protect your feelings?"

 

"The truth," Rey said immediately.

 

"Agreed. And… the rest of these, I don't care for." He paused as the cab pulled up at the curve to his apartment. "Fourteen questions so far. Want to continue the rest upstairs?"

 

Upstairs.

 

The last time she'd been here, she'd done a walk of shame.

 

"Hey." Ben squeezed her hand. "You don't have to come up."

 

"No," she said firmly, tamping her nerves down. She was having a good time, and she believed him when he said they would only do whatever she wanted. "I'll go."

 

He smiled.

 

Her body tingled all over.

 

Double damn.


	8. Flicker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Haven't been feeling very well.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

Rey hesitated in front of Ben's front door.

 

He paused with the key in the lock, his brows rising. "You still okay to go inside?"

 

"Yeah…" She rubbed her bicep and nodded, her eyes trained on the doorknob. "I only… déjà vu, I suppose."

 

His expression turned knowing, but to his credit, he finished opening the door and didn't pass comment. They stopped over the threshold, and the scent of Ben's flat hit her, filling her up with… the usual: fear, excitement, desire. It carried his cologne, his detergent, his natural musk.

 

It was delightful.

 

Was it odd that she wanted to wrap herself up in it?

 

She slipped off her shoes by the door. She wasn't sure about the rules of the flat; it was only polite. It proved to be good instincts—he repeated her action a mere moment later.

 

Rey hadn't looked around before—she did now.

 

The plush white carpet, she remembered. The practicality of it, she didn't understand, as Ben seemed like he was a very practical man. What about food stains? What if he spilled a glass of wine? Or scotch. It was all she'd seen him order aside from the tequila shots they'd downed so heartily.

 

"You look like you're going to bolt at any second," he observed. "Now's the time. The door's still open."

 

"I'm not as flighty as you think," she said testily.

 

"Says the girl who ran from me at the bookstore." Ben shut the door and locked it in a habitual movement.

 

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" she muttered.

 

"No." Ben smirked. "Be hard to. That's never happened before. It was like a scene I would write."

 

"I'll try and take that as a compliment," she replied. But she was already flattered.

 

"You should. Welcome to my inner sanctum." Ben began the grand tour. He stopped a few feet in when he noticed she wasn't accompanying him. "Rey?"

 

She fidgeted.

 

A lot of things were mushing into her brain at one time.

 

_This is Ben's apartment._

_I had a walk of shame from this apartment._

_I_ slept _with a man in this apartment._ This _man._

_This man is an author._

_This author is Ashley Hayden._

_Ashley Hayden is my favorite novelist._

_Ashley Hayden is a man. I suppose that makes sense. Ashley is a gender-neutral name._

_Hah! Clever. I just pieced that together._

_This is my idol._

_I write sometimes._

_A little._

_All right, a lot._

_No one ever sees it. No one ever_ will _see it. It's utter trash._

_He's looking at me as though I've lost my mind. As though I've gone mad._

_Have I gone mad?_

_I slept with my idol._

_I slept with Ashley Hayden._

_I slept with a man who writes… amazing… oh, sod it, we'll call it what it is—pornographic sex scenes! And I can't even recall my own experience with him!_

_Except the one memory._

"Rey…?"

 

"Present!" she exclaimed and then winced. What was she, in grade school?

 

Good gad, would her pride ever remain intact around this man?

 

She feared the answer was a resounding _no_.

 

"This is the kitchen, as you can see."

 

It was a stainless steel heaven with marble counters. A microwave above the oven, a refrigerator large enough to hide a body in, and Christ, wasn't that a morbid thought?

 

 _Think positive, think positive_.

 

Right! The counters were very wide, very spacious. Plenty of room to cook, to bake.

 

Cute nook with a table for two.

 

"This is the living room."

 

It had a step that led into it. An entertainment system was set up with a television large enough to undoubtedly make someone go blind once it was on. There was a surround sound that went with it, hooked up subtly throughout the area. This, combined with the wall of DVDs, told her that he reveled in a home-theater experience.

 

L-shaped leather couch. Black. Marble-topped coffee table. Delicate white curtains over floor-to-ceiling windows, providing a very nice view of the city. Rey wondered at his choice. With how bright it got outside, surely it would put a glare on his tele during the day?

 

"Hallway…" he murmured.

 

Standard.

 

"Guest bedroom."

 

Pretty standard, as well, portraying the monochrome colors from the rest of the flat. Its furniture consisted of a bed, a closet, a dresser, and a chair in the corner with a throw blanket folded atop it. The curtains here were the same as the ones in the living room.

 

Astonishing, how she'd rushed out of this place without taking in anything but the carpet.

 

Then again, she'd been horrified with herself, absolutely horrified.

 

"Second guest bedroom—I converted it into an office…"

 

She bumped into his back. "Ack!"

 

"Whoa—" He steadied her. "Any reason you're following me so closely?"

 

"I—I wasn't following you closely!" Rey huffed. "I was looking around!"

 

"Mmhm."

 

"Don't _mmhm_ me, it's the truth!"

 

"Right, right."

 

"Ben!"

 

"' _Ben_ ,'" he mocked in a high-pitched whine.

 

She punched his arm.

 

"OW!"

 

"' _Ow_!'" she whined.

 

"C'mere!" He pulled her under his arm, against his chest, and she shrieked. That breath was stolen a second later as his fingers miraculously found all of the most ticklish spots on her sides. She burst into a stream of giggles, wriggling to get away.

 

"Stop, stop!" she pleaded.

 

Chuckling, he released her.

 

Heart pounding, Rey straightened her clothes from where they'd been mussed. "We are not at a place where you can tickle me!" she informed him. She had to save _some_ face.

 

"What place are we at, then?" he asked interestedly.

 

Her mouth opened, prepared to launch a smart remark.

 

Nothing came.

 

Never let it be said that Ben Solo was not one to turn down an opportunity.

 

Her back to the wall, he pinned her in, planting a hand beside her head. He was smiling in that devilish way that made her want to both find a way to remove it or kiss it.

 

The latter was winning at the moment.

 

Her lashes fluttered closed in anticipation.

 

"As I was saying." He pushed away from the wall. "I made an office out of this room. I think you'll want to see what's inside. You're my biggest fan, right?"

 

Wha—?

 

Gwah…

 

Bwuh?

 

Right—

 

No! She couldn't let him believe that! He was smug enough already!

 

She opened her eyes, her mood sour until she stepped into his office.

 

It was a library.

 

Rey started laughing harder than she had been when he'd tickled her.

 

"How is this funny?" he asked, confused. "It's an office."

 

She got a hold of herself and leaned against a bookcase, still snickering. It really wasn't that funny—she was so hopped up on nerves that it was taking its toll on her.

 

"I apologize," she said. "I thought of something."

 

"Yeah, and you lost your shit."

 

"Do they pay you to be rude?" She giggled wearily.

 

"Noelle would say they do." Ben smiled in the way someone did when they had no idea what was so funny, but they were amused regardless. "What was that?"

 

"I…" Rey let her eyes flit around the room. It was beautiful. Bookshelves covered every square inch of the walls, the color of espresso and with a sturdiness that implied they'd cost a small fortune. Each shelf was stuffed full of books—some were orderly, others had texts crammed wherever they could fit.

 

"There's this meme with Beauty and the Beast," she said distractedly, walking over to the section dedicated to his works. "It says, 'I'll get that bitch a library! Bitches _love_ libraries!'"

 

It was so completely applicable to her situation.

 

"Yes, this office gets me all the ladies," he said wryly.

 

She grinned at him, glad she was the one to get under his skin for once.

 

"Go ahead," he sighed.

 

Lighting up from his permission, she took to exploring his collection. It was _paradise_. He had three copies of each volume, and they were all in order from the date of publication. They were so pristine that it was apparent they hadn't been touched.

 

"I still can't believe it!" she chirped. "You—my favorite author!"

 

"Yeah, yeah…"

 

"Do you not like what you write?" Rey furrowed her brows.

 

He shrugged.

 

"Why not?!" She couldn't believe it. He took pen to paper so wonderfully. While vocally he might be crass and blunt, his books were so different—eloquent, almost poetic… They were one of the things she looked forward to the most every year.

 

"I just… don't." Uncomfortable, he went to the desk in front of the closet and shifted some papers around. A slender laptop was closed at one end, cattycorner from the briefcase he'd had with him the last time she'd seen him. "That's why I was at the bookstore that day. Noelle thought I should go out… See in person that there were people interested in my works." He drummed his knuckles on the desktop.

 

"And then you saw me," she whispered.

 

She saw him smile to himself.

 

"Yeah," he said. "Then I saw you—right before you—"

 

"Bolted out of the store. Let it _go_ already." Rey threw her arms up.

 

"Why? You're adorable."

 

"What? I am not. Shut it!" She was blushing again.

 

_Damn him!_

"I am not…" she insisted in a softer tone, unable to make herself look at him.

 

"There's only one place left to see," he said. "But I guess we can skip it."

 

"What?" Rey asked absently. She was busy examining the shelf with his books over the curve of her shoulder. She so badly wanted to go back over there. Maybe he'd let her snoop through them if she asked very nicely?

 

Though… she hadn't been very nice so far, had she…?

 

"My bedroom."

 

Bedroom?

 

Bedroom!

 

_"Wait, no, that's not the bedroom!"_

_"Where, then, where?"_

_Laughter._

_Fumbling._

_Feet tangling together, and bodies thumping onto a bed._

_"Here."_

"Yes." Rey's voice had picked up a scratchy cadence. "I think that's best."

 

 _For now_ , said a tiny voice at the back of her mind.

 

_After all, who knows what the evening will bring?_

No!

 

Damn it, Kenobi, be strong!

 

Oh, she had walked herself right into a trap of her own making.

 


	9. Ticking, Ticking, Ticking On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know me from my other stories: I never take this long to update. For those who don't know me from my other stories and for those who do: I've been sick. Started with a head cold, grew into a sinus infection, and is now a very bad case of bronchitis. Combined with finals, UGH. But I am here! Believe me, I have been aching to update!
> 
> The synopsis to Meet Joe Black belongs to IMDB.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

 

* * *

 

"What were you thinking about?"

 

"W-What?"

 

"You're flushed."

 

"O-Oh…"

 

"Rey?"

 

She cleared her throat and emptied her head of all thoughts from that night. Or tried to. It was fairly difficult to do so when Ben was standing there, so very scrumptious and—

 

"I have an idea!" she floundered.

 

A dark eyebrow lifted.

 

Rey tapped the tips of her fingers together and paced around the office. She wanted to word this properly. Otherwise, she'd come off sounding like a ninny, which she most definitely did _not_ want. If Ben could be poetic with words—on paper, if not in person—then she could, as well. Somehow. So far, all she'd done was prove that she was completely mental. Off her head. Stark raving mad. Bonkers. Loony—

 

_Right. That's enough of a thesaurus for nutty for one day._

 

"I… You want to be in my life, right?"

 

Ben sat in the chair behind his desk. He propped his feet up and folded his arms over his stomach, tilting his head back on the headrest. His expression was interested, urging her on.  

 

"And we want to get to know one another. Right?"

 

"Right."

 

Right.

 

Too many rights.

 

Rey scratched at her head.

 

"I just… I only… er…"

 

Bugger it.

 

"I want you in my life, too," she said. "But—slowly. I—can we pretend… we… or not _pretend_ , but… can we put—that we had sex on the back burner?" she asked him earnestly, setting her hands on the edge of his desk. She rose onto her tiptoes and bit her lip.

 

"Are you asking me to court you?" The side of his mouth quirked.

 

"Maybe," she frowned.

 

He dropped his feet to the floor. He placed his arms on the desk, peering up at her. "Okay, Rey Kenobi. Then prepare to be swept off your feet."

 

Rey was immensely glad she was holding onto the desk.

 

And judging by his gaze, he knew it, too.

 

He always knew.

 

_God-blessed knees._

 

"Are you always so lucky with women?" she whispered.

 

"No," he murmured. "Just with you."

 

Her heart, the damned thing, was causing a ruckus behind her ribs, clanging away. "And why is that?"

 

"You tell me," he replied.

 

"W-What…?"

 

He reached out and took one of her hands in his own. Shivers raced down her spine as his thumb traced the lifelines on her palm. "Only you can tell me why you're attracted to me. Right?"

 

"Right…" Pink tinting her cheeks, she laughed softly, glancing down.

 

"And that's your favorite word… right?"

 

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, piss off," she said without heat.

 

"Well, I was _trying_ before you said you wanted to take it _slooow_ …" he drawled, pressing kisses to her hand. He nipped at her knuckles, and her laughter grew to fill the room. "Okay. I'm going to send you home. I'll pay for the cab-fare. We're going to have a date tonight."

 

"Wha—?"

 

"You'll be snug in your bed, all alone, and I'll be in mine, all alone."

 

"You lost me," Rey deadpanned.

 

He grinned and pressed one last kiss to her hand. "Don't worry. I have a very specific set of instructions."

 

* * *

 

 

_Ben Solo: Got the link?_

_Me: Just now._

Rey paid the taxi driver and exited the cab. She waited until she was in the safety of the building containing her flat to pull her mobile back out. She tapped open the link Ben had provided her with, loading Spotify. It brought up a playlist titled, "ashley hayden's OST for rey." It made her smile to herself.

 

She hit the elevator button for her floor and scrolled down the list of music Ben listened to whenever he was writing.

 

_Wandering Jane – Dario Marianelli, Jack Liebeck, Benjamin Wallfisch (Jane Eyre)_

_Corynorhinus – Hans Zimmer, James Newton Howard (Batman Begins)_

_Time – Hans Zimmer (Inception)_

_Gone – Ioanna Gika (Snow White & The Huntsman) _

_Walkaway – Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black)_

_A Frequent Thing – Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black)_

_Served It's Purpose – Thomas Newman (Meet Joe Black)_

_Ashes – Thomas Newman (Little Women)_

_The Children – Ramin Djawadi (Game of Thrones: Season 4)_

_Hide & Seek – Amber Run _

_Black Out Days – Phantogram_

_Rue's Farewell – James Newton Howard (The Hunger Games)_

_Ender's War – Steve Jablonsky (Ender's Game)_

_Cornfield Chase – Hans Zimmer (Interstellar)_

_Loss of a Twin – Brian Tyler (Eagle Eye)_

_Genesis – Ruelle_

She wasn't even close to finishing the playlist when the elevator _dinged_. Shaking her head, she brought Ben's message screen back up.

 

_Me: That's a depressing assortment._

_Ben Solo: Have you read my works?_

_Me: I'm going to need to introduce you to happier music. I noticed there were a lot of pieces from Meet Joe Black._

_Ben Solo: Ever seen it?_

_Me: No._

_Ben Solo: Good. That's what we're gonna watch tonight._

Pleasantly puzzled, she began to text her response, only to pause.

 

Poe was lounging in a familiar position against her front door.

 

"We need to talk," he said without delay.

 

"Look—"

 

"No, no, no." He held up a hand. "None of that." He came to stand in front of her. "We're best friends. Wanna clue me in to what's _really_ going on?"

 

_Not really._

"I—I can't," she replied. "I really can't."

 

"Why not?" he pressed.

 

"Because I don't have the energy for it," she stated plainly. "Not now. And to be dramatic, maybe not ever."

 

"This isn't like you." Poe's brows pushed together.

 

"I can't do this in the hallway." Rey got her key in the door with a jangle and the grind of metal on tumblers.

 

"So let's go inside, then!"

 

She whirled in the threshold of the door, her hands holding onto it, one palm occupied with her mobile and her keys. "Poe… please. You're right. We _are_ best friends. And I need you to respect the fact that I need _space_."

 

Would it work?

 

Would he actually listen to her?

 

"I've been respecting that for _months_!"

 

No.

 

Of course not.

 

That would be too _easy_.

 

He grasped her by the shoulders, staring intensely into her eyes. Poe Dameron, Knight in Shining Armor, full of fire, ready to save the day, never knowing when to quit, when to give it up as a bad job. It was like she was watching it all unfold from another plane. Why? To protect herself from the aftermath of this disastrous confrontation?

 

"I have to know what's going on! I can't take this anymore! It's not the same without you! I have Finn, but… come on, it's Finn!" He laughed, but without the usual chemical makeup that Poe's life was comprised of—jolly good fun. " _Where are you_? Where are my deep conversations? Where are—?"

 

"That's what you have a wife for," she whispered. "That's what you marry for—you marry your best friend. That's the way it's supposed to be."

 

"That's your theory? I marry my best friend and forget the rest?"

 

"Yes—"

 

"Rey, c'mon—"

 

" _Don't_!" Rey clenched her eyes shut. "Don't do this to me! Don't make me stand here and do this!"

 

_Don't make me hurt you. Please. Please don't make me hurt you._

 

"Do _what_?!" Poe released her to throw his hands up. He was frustrated. She knew the feeling—was intimately tied to it. "You're there every day of my life for years, and then you vanish into thin air! Is it the guy? If it's the guy, then just tell me!"

 

It would be so simple to… to say it was the guy… to say it was Ben… to make up a lie…

 

"Poe, please…" she begged.

 

"No!" He put his fists on his hips, the dreaded hurt spreading over his face, and she couldn't bear it, she couldn't bear it. This was her worst nightmare. She'd always put her friends' feelings before her own, all of them. Poe, Finn—

 

"I'm in love with you!" she cried.

 

His mouth worked open a few times.

 

She waited.

 

And waited and waited and waited and waited.

 

But he had nothing to say.

 

"Right," she said in a tremulous voice, praying all the while that it didn't crack. She didn't want to cry in front of him. She was an ugly crier, and she'd lost enough of her dignity already. "That's what I thought."

 

And then she shut the door and locked it.

 

* * *

 

 

The world swayed all over the place.

 

Rey staggered through her apartment. Her keys hit the floor. Her purse followed shortly after. Her cell, she had no idea where it went. She only hoped that the screen hadn't cracked, wherever it had vanished to.  

 

_I'm in love with you! I'm in love with you!_

_—love with you!_

_—love with you—_

_lovewithyoulovewithyoulovewithyou_

It was like a fecking psychotic remix.

 

And that helpless gaze.

 

Poe Dameron, Knight in Fecking Shining Armor, speechless.

 

Her knees hit the tile of her bathroom floor in time for her to push open the toilet lid and vomit up the contents of her stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

Cookie dough ice cream.

 

* * *

 

 

Vanilla with sprinkles.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey stay sprawled on her side on the fuzzy pink bathroom rug for the better part of an hour.

 

 _You couldn't have known,_ she thought. _You couldn't have known he'd show up. You couldn't have known he'd push the issue so hard._

 

Well, now she was just lying to herself. Isn't that what Poe did best? Worm his way in and figure out where all someone's buttons were, mashing on them until they spilled their beans?

_This isn't your fault. It's not. It isn't. He would have found out eventually._

She didn't know what hurt more. That he'd never figured it out, or that he'd given her exactly the reaction she'd expected.

 

 _Saying something sooner wouldn't have made a bloody bit of difference. This is_ not _your fault_.

 

Her heart was aching so badly. She'd been… still hoping… somewhere in there… some… shred of her…

 

Rey had been there all along, and Poe hadn't felt anything at all for her in that way. He'd been so genuinely surprised. And that look in his eyes—it had told her everything she'd wanted, _needed_ , to know. That he didn't share any inkling, any shred, any _iota_ of what Rey held inside of her soul. There was nothing she could have done. Ever. She wasn't his girl. She'd known that when he'd married himself away.

 

But this was different. This was brutal. This was a sledgehammer to the mirror she'd held in front of her for so many years.

 

There was no longer any illusion.

 

Rey curled into a ball and squeezed out more tears. The damned things were endless. She had no idea how to console herself. It wasn't something she could just bounce back from. She was damaged straight to her core. No near misses, no semi-penetration. Bulls-eye. She was a goner. She was going to need a new heart.

 

She sobbed until she heard it.

 

Her standard ringtone, _Conqueror_ by AURORA.

 

She sniffled—considered ignoring it.

 

But it wouldn't cease.

 

Blowing her nose with toilet paper, she got herself into something resembling a person with their shit together. She rooted out the source of the noise in the depths of her purse. _Ben Solo_ was flashing on her mobile. She fell flat on the arse and tipped her head back, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she choked on another sob.

 

After three deep breaths that did nothing to quell the misery within, she answered the call, saying nothing.

 

"What's wrong?" he demanded instantly.

 

"Why does something have to be wrong?" she asked in as normal a tone as she could muster.

 

"Well, for one, it sounds like—" He broke off. Reining in his cutting tongue? Color her impressed. "It's that guy, isn't it? You told him."

 

"Yeah," she sighed.

 

"All right, get up."

 

"Ben, I really don't feel like—"

 

"Get the fuck up," he said. "Are you the heroine of your story?"

 

"I… what?"

 

"Is this your story?"

 

"Yeah?" she wobbled, confused. She sniffled again.

 

"Right. You're not the supporting character in his shitty ass novel. And you have me. And your friends. Now get up and listen to me. Are you standing yet?"

 

"I…" Rey faltered. Then she scrambled unsteadily to her feet. "Y-Yeah…"

 

"Good. Go get in the fucking shower. Finish crying it out and whatever girly shit it is your kind do in there. Then call me back. Got it?"

 

He hung up before she could answer.

 

She contemplated her phone for a long moment.

 

Rey ran her wrist under her runny nose.

 

_Ah, sod it._

 

* * *

 

 

"Comfortable?"

 

"I guess…"

 

"Got the popcorn?"

 

"Kettlecorn, but yeah…"

 

"Pillows all nice and fluffed?"

 

"Mmn."

 

"Netflix up?"

 

Rey gave an exhausted sigh.

 

" _Meet Joe Black_ paused?"

 

"I'm beginning to think this is benefiting you more than me," she grumbled. "Weren't these our original plans?"

 

"And?"

 

She had no comeback to that and so let it go.

 

"Okay, stay on the phone with me. Press play."

 

"Anthony Hopkins?" Rey asked skeptically as the move started. "You're going to make me watch a horror film?"

 

"He's not a bad guy in this."

 

Admittedly intrigued, Rey relaxed into her pillows and snugged her favorite throw blanket up to her neck. "Are you one of those people who gets mad if someone talks during the movie?"

 

"I'll tolerate it in light of tonight's circumstances."

 

"How nice of you," Rey replied, not bothering to hide the dryness to the words.

 

"You have _no_ idea."

 

"What's this film even about?"

 

"Hold on… I'll IMDB the synopsis…" There was a clacking of keys. He'd grabbed his laptop. "'Death, who takes the form of a young man, asks a media mogul to act as a guide to teach him about life on Earth, and in the process, he falls in love with his guide's daughter.' Hm. Pretty _apt_." He punctuated the last word with emphasis in that way of his.

 

"As long as it's not depressing," Rey muttered. Though it did sound very interesting.

 

"No. Now watch, or you're going to miss crucial points to the story."

 

Rey couldn't help it.

 

She laughed.

 

And her heart was all the lighter for it.

 

Maybe it wasn't as broken as she thought.


	10. The Not-So-Silent Sentinel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I'm feeling way better. Finally getting back into the groove of updating. If anyone likes the show The Magicians, I started a small Queliot fic if anyone is interested.
> 
> Thanks for all the well wishes!

* * *

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

As _Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World_ began to play on the credits, Rey sniffled, tears on her cheeks. She thought, perhaps, that the movie might not have evoked such an emotional response from her if she wasn't so on edge from what had happened earlier with Poe. But having Ben's voice gently commentating in her ear for the last three hours had been soothing.

 

Soothing enough that she wanted to break down one of the barriers she'd so firmly placed between them.

 

"Ben…?" she sniffled.

 

"Yeah?" he sighed. He sounded like he was getting comfortable, and that he was a little sleepy.

 

"Would you… mind terribly if…?" She trailed off, her heart skipping as she swallowed.

 

No.

 

Wait.

 

She shouldn't. She wasn't thinking clearly. She was lonely. It wasn't a smart decision.

 

Silence prevailed.

 

If Ben was good for anything, it was for conveying that he had absolutely no qualms with waiting for her to figure out what she wanted to say. The only problem with this was that it made her heart pound harder as the seconds ticked past.

 

Rey sank into her pillows and placed her fist against her forehead, chewing furiously at her lip. Her mobile was close to dying—she was surprised she hadn't had to hook it up already—and her shoulder was cramped from where she'd been cradling it for more than half the movie. She hadn't wanted to put him on speaker. She'd wanted his deep voice in her ear and was unsure if she'd ever be able to describe the way it…

 

If she wished to get what she wanted, she thought, she wasn't going to get it without reaching out and grabbing it.

 

"Will you come to my place?" The words quavered, and it was more noticeable than they might have been otherwise.

 

"Are you sure?" Ben murmured.

 

"I'm not sure of anything anymore," Rey whispered. It was, perhaps, more honest than she had been with herself in quite a while. "But I want to be held. Can you do that? Will you come here?"

 

He let out a long sigh.

 

And nothing.

 

Rey tried not to panic. Keeping it out of her voice was even harder, given how her throat constricted. "Ben?"

 

"Am I allowed to answer in a way that sounds really cliché?" he drawled.

 

Rey had to smile, relief flooding her. She could tell that he wanted to come over, no matter what his tone. "Yes."

 

"I'll do anything for you. Hang tight."

 

* * *

 

 

_I'll do anything for you._

Rey stared at nothing, rubbing her upper arm slowly, Netflix running a screensaver on the tele. Those were words she'd long wanted— _waited_ to hear. She hadn't… expected them to come from this man, and she wasn't… she didn't know what to _make_ of it.

 

It was something anyone could say, and so easily. People did it all the time, without regard to the feelings of the person receiving the message. But Ben… He didn't strike her as the sort to say anything he didn't mean.

 

She'd managed to clear her mind during the film. One would think watching death fall in love with a mortal woman would just rub salt in the wound, but it hadn't. She'd genuinely enjoyed the story, the music, all of it. She could see why there was so much of the score on the playlist he'd given her.

 

But now she was alone again, and she didn't think she could stand it.

 

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, where it was charging, and it made her jump. Shaking herself free of her reverie, she reached over, thinking it was Ben. Her heart simultaneously clenched on itself and sank.

 

_Poe: We need to talk._

"Oh, fuck me," Rey breathed.

 

And fuck him.

 

And fuck the world for dealing her such a shite hand lately.

 

Some god of fortune must have finally decided to poke its head out of its arse, because a knock came at her door. She set the phone down, hurrying across her flat, rushing to open the locks. Her heart was pounding now. She wasn't sure who it was—she wasn't sure who she wanted it to be, but some part of her must have been praying it was Ben, as that was who she received.

 

Tears touched her lashes. "Have you ever seen _Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind_?"

 

Ben, mouth already open to greet her in some fashion, closed. He furrowed his brows. "…Yes?"

 

Rey sniffled, wishing that she could stop blubbering. Who did she need to pray to for _that_? "I wish I could do that—I wish I could wipe my mind of every memory I have of him." She stood aside to let Ben in, rambling on as she did so. "But without the last part of the film. I want—I want him _gone_. Forever."

 

"Every memory?" Ben asked unexpectedly. He stood in the center of her living room, his eyes trailing over it, not missing a thing in that uncanny way of his. "All of them?"

 

Annoyance flared within Rey. "If you're going to say even the good ones and the bad—"

 

"There she is."

 

Rey swallowed. "What?"

 

Ben turned toward her, shrugging one shoulder. "Your _spunk_. It was missing."

 

And it was back just as quickly. Rey set her jaw, speaking through her teeth, "So you plan to annoy me, then? If so, then get out—"

 

"Oh, don't get so bent out of shape." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and jerked her into his body. "I didn't mean it that way." He squeezed her. "You said something about being held?"

 

She kept her arms at her sides out of sheer principle. "I changed my mind."

 

"Did you? I guess I'll just go, then—" He stopped when she clutched onto him so tightly he likely had trouble breathing. Then he kissed her hair.

 

She squeezed her eyes shut and let his shirt absorb her tears.

 

* * *

 

 

"It's kind of another cliché that there's a storm happening outside right now." Ben's fingers stroked through her hair in gentle motions that sent prickles all the way down her spine. She'd spent the last hour-and-a-half bundled up in his arms, and she had no intention of going anywhere, not anytime soon.

 

"It's peaceful," Rey murmured somewhat sleepily. Her hand rested near enough to his heart that she felt it beating beneath her fingertips. It was every bit as comforting as the rest of him, sprawled as she was over his large, warm body.

 

"I guess I can't argue that," he hummed.

 

"Stop being in such a cheery mood," she grumbled. She'd asked him to make her feel better, yet he insisted on riling her up. If he wasn't careful, he was going to get an elbow to his gut.

 

"I can't help it," he said.

 

"I'm sure you can," she disagreed wryly.

 

"I can't." His lips brushed over her temple. They were barely there, it was such a graze. Then why did heat insist on trickling through her body?

 

She buried her face in his shoulder. "You can."

 

"Did I miss the memo where we're two now? Ow!" he cried as she smacked his arm. "You're really abusive today." She whacked him a few more times, and he got a good hold on her arm, trapping it against him. "Where did all those good manners go?"

 

She bit him.

 

"OW!" He shifted, tumbling her beneath him, settling between her thighs. "Quit it." He pinned her wrists to either side of her head.

 

Rey stuck her tongue out at him, and Ben huffed a laugh, shaking his bangs out of his eyes—eyes that were truly lit up with humor. He was happy, in a giddy sort of way, and he was having a difficult time hiding it. Then again, she didn't think he _was_ trying very hard, judging on the impish smile he was giving her now.

 

"What?" She narrowed her eyes distrustfully.

 

"You're fucking beautiful."

 

"Oh, come off it." She rolled her eyes, wriggling out from under him. He let her.

 

"You are. Hey—" He grasped her thigh and tugged her body into a proper spooning position. She didn't resist him and told herself it was only because he was so bloody comfortable. "Where do you think you're going?"

 

"Away from you," she sighed, notably not moving.

 

Thunder rumbled.

 

"Well, it's almost midnight…" His thumb traced a path over her wrist. "I should get going."

 

He said it like he didn't want to.

 

And…

 

And she really didn't want him to, either.

 

Rey tightened her grip on his hand before he could go anywhere.

 

"Stay?" she asked, unable to look at him, afraid she'd lose her nerve. Ben's stares were too intense sometimes. They made her choke up, forget what she was saying or how to say it. She didn't want that right now. She didn't want him to leave her side.

 

"For how much longer?" he murmured. "I have to be up early."

 

"How early?" Gaining courage, she twisted onto her back so she could see him.

 

His lips twitched.

 

"Don't you dare laugh at me, Ben Solo."

 

"I'm not," he said.

 

"You look like you're about to," she insisted.

 

"I will if you keep this up," he promised.

 

Grrr…

 

He snickered.

 

"Ben Solo!"

 

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and smiled down at her. With his body curved over hers this way, she couldn't help but feel… protected from the world. Shielded. He was doing what she wanted, what he seemed to want, as well—keeping her safe in this moment. Tonight.

 

_I'll do anything for you._

"Stay," she whispered. "Don't make me ask again."

 

Ben kissed her on the tip of her nose.

 

For a moment, her body sung with the high of his closeness.

 

"You're being very bossy," he whispered.

 

_Smack._

"OW!"

 

Despite the pain weighing her heart down, a giggle slipped free from her, and something inside of her _changed_ at that.

 

She was vaguely aware that her smile had gone dopey.

 

"Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?" she asked.


	11. Whatever It Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thanks for all the love so far! Those who read Falling for the Enemy will find an Easter egg.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

Rey stared through the glass window of her dance class and tried not to feel empty inside.

 

How many months leading up to Poe's wedding had she waltzed across that hardwood floor to help prepare him in secret for his first dance with Rebecca? He'd wanted her to be so surprised, so awed, by his prowess. Even Finn had come to visit them sometimes. And Rey had gone on her own, and after, learning different things because she loved how it—how it… how it had made her feel, and now…

 

She rubbed at her shoulder where it met the crook of her neck and inhaled.

 

She'd gotten dressed for it, had been set to go. Then, halfway here, she'd changed her mind. She didn't want to do this anymore. She wanted to cancel. She didn't want the reminders. She'd suffered them enough. Why torture herself any longer?

 

Her mobile vibrated in her gym bag. Ben was meeting her here. They were going to walk by the river, on the trail there. She'd figured that since he'd wanted to "hang out," and she was already kitted out for it, why not change the destination? She needed the exercise. She'd been blowing off classes, anyway, only coming sporadically now that the wedding had come and gone.

 

_Ben Solo: I'm here._

Rey put her phone back up and rolled her shoulders back. She could do this. She could cancel her classes. Be polite, tell the woman she wasn't going to attend them anymore. All would be well and merry, and she could go on with her life.

 

She stood there for another five minutes.

 

"Dancing, huh?"

 

Startled, Rey turned to find Ben beside her. He had his hands in his pockets, clothed in athletic gear like her. It was odd to see him in it, but it had been their chosen activity for the day. She liked the way his long-sleeved black shirt fit over his chest, as it highlighted how chiseled it was. The pants were matching in color and half-covered well-worn trainers.

 

"Ah… sorry. I suppose I lost track of time," Rey said apologetically.

 

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

 

She flushed, not wanting to tell him. But in the end, she drew another breath and did so. "I'm canceling my classes. I started taking them for Poe's dance with Rebecca at their wedding. He wanted to impress her. And I went on my own, too. But now…"

 

He was silent for a moment.

 

"…What?" she hedged.

 

"Nothing."

 

"It's always something."

 

"I just think that you shouldn't let him ruin this for you. If you want to keep dancing, then keep dancing."

 

"You know, Ben—" Growing cross, she kept a grip on the strap of her gym bag and took an aggressive stance before him.

 

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, unaffected.

 

"Not everything is so _easy_ to let go of."

 

"I know. That's why I'm going to dance with you."

 

Bwuh?

 

"I'm sorry." She cleared her throat, scratching her head. "I don't think I heard you right. You said you're going to _dance with me_?"

 

"I told you my mother was involved with politics. I know how." That carefree demeanor he'd adopted around her crumbled slightly into defensiveness. "And I'm a successful author. I go to parties."

 

"And you dance," Rey deadpanned.

 

"Yes, Rey, I dance," he drawled. "Now are we going to go in there or stand out here letting that asshole destroy something else you love?"

 

* * *

 

 

"Remember the basics, people! T-A-N-G-O!"

 

"Do you do this for all the girls?" Rey muttered. So far, the instructor had left them alone with only a remark about Ben's "perfect form."

 

"Waltzing?"

 

"No, dancing," she frowned.

 

He chuckled. "I know what you meant. And no. Only when I have to, which is almost never, thank fuck."

 

"If the lady makes a mistake," the instructor was saying as she walked around the room, adjusting couples' arms here and there, "it's considered her fault. My suggestion for this is to ensure you have a good dance partner."

 

Light laughter spattered around the room.

 

"A beginner's class," Ben observed. "What do you normally take?"

 

"Everything," Rey said. "I want to learn everything."

 

"Intriiiguing," he replied. They flared their feet out with everyone else, but in a spectacularly nice move that awed the people next to them. It made Rey's breath catch. There was something about a man who could lead her so perfectly in dancing. "What else have you taken?"

 

"I don't know…" She kept a mental pace of the T-A-N-G-O method as he backed her around the room. Her foot placements were a little off, but she was quickly learning, as was her wont.

 

"You can tell me. I won't laugh. Too much."

 

"That's encouraging." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Some ballet, some tap, the waltz, standard ballroom dancing, river dancing—"

 

" _River dancing_?"

 

Her eyes narrowed. His lips were twitching, barely containing his laughter. "Don't," she warned. "I'm wearing heels. I'm perfectly capable of doing permanent injury in places you'd rather I didn't."

 

"But if you did that—" He abruptly did some sort of move she didn't formally know the name of, but it involved bowing her over his arm and leaving her breathless. "You wouldn't be able to enjoy those places anymore, would you?"

 

"A couple of things…" She fought to keep her heart from quavering as he spun her properly onto her feet. "Don't be so flashy."

 

He smiled. "The second?"

 

"That's quite the assumption, that we're having sex again at some point."

 

He spun her again, pressing her back against his chest. He was fluid in a way that didn't make her trip and humiliate herself. His lips found her ear. "Aren't we?"

 

She tried not to moan—failed a little. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how she chose to view it—he was the only one to hear it.

 

And Rey knew then and there that he was going to be the death of her.

 

And, more importantly, that she wanted it to happen.

 

"Stop it," she hissed. "If you keep showing off, she's going to call you out on it."

 

"We'll do it her way, then. Weeks of the basics, right here." He cradled her body to his, molding them together in ways that made her hot all over. "Are you ready?"

 

"No!"

 

Without further warning, they were off to the center of the room.

 

Oh, God, she was going to make an utter fool of herself.

 

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I won't let you fall."

 

"Oh, yes, that's very reassuring—"

 

He brought them into a standard starting position. Their arms weren't fully extended, like films often portrayed. His hand was safely where it should have been on her back, her hand near his shoulder. There was a devilish gleam to his eyes. How could he do that? Make her excited and full of dread at the same time?

 

"You keep bringing up clichés," she breathed. "You realize this is another one? The man shows off his considerable skills at dancing?"

 

"You two—" the instructor called.

 

Ben pushed.

 

It was true—he didn't go beyond anything Rey hadn't learned already. But classes were broken into pieces, partners were exchanged to keep it even, and she couldn't precisely practice on her own with this one. Not to her satisfaction. It wasn't as fun that way. And here Ben was, taking all of those moments and speeding past the rest of the process, throwing it all together into one seamless transition.

 

She prayed she'd be able to keep up.

 

Not very far into guiding her, they'd gathered an audience. Her face was burning red. And, admittedly, she was a bit turned on. That feeling only developed as the tango continued, their feet pacing rapidly over the floor, her heels clicking. She was vaguely aware of making a few mistakes, yet they were so minute with how skilled he was. It helped that he was staring into her eyes. Drowning in them like this, she…

 

Everyone made room for them. By then, she was smiling. By the end, she was grinning.

 

* * *

 

 

"I don't know most of what we did," she was laughing as she gathered up her things into her gym bag. She was sweating a little and had already gone through a bottle of water. The instructor had scolded them lightly and class had resumed. She was wrung out with exhaustion now that it was over. "Sorry about ditching the river walk."

 

"Don't be sorry." He shrugged.

 

"Yeah, but I know it's better than being stuck here—"

 

"Stop." He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them as he kissed her forehead. "I'm here for you." He picked up her gym bag for her. "No matter what we're doing."

 

She wanted to make a wry comment—there were so many openings for that. No matter _what_? But the truth of the matter was that she was touched, and it locked up her throat.

 

"Ben?"

 

"What's up?"

 

She cupped his cheek in her hand, stubble grazing her palm, and tilted up on her toes, which were snugly back in her trainers. She studied his face from up close, which she'd done a thousand times already. It had been a week since he'd spent the night, since she'd seen him last. Not that they hadn't been texting constantly until she was free.

 

"So are you going to kiss me or what?" he asked.

 

"You're so damned rude," she muttered.

 

And then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him into that kiss.


	12. When It's Overrated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly NSFW. Please read at your own discretion.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

 

* * *

 

 

The next three months were the most amazing Rey had ever had. Mostly because she had never been quite so happy. At least, not in recent memory.

 

It didn't always take much. Seeing Ben made her whole heart light up. Sometimes they met early in the morning for breakfast or coffee, and he was _not_ prepared for it. He'd be wearing glasses—which he looked incredibly handsome in—and some of his hair would be sticking up. A haze would hang over his face; he'd grunt at her until he woke up more, constantly rubbing his eyes and yawning.

 

He'd catch her watching him with a faint grin on her face after a while and then usually take a giant bite out of her blueberry muffin to make her squeal in protest. He'd fend her off, batting at her hands while she attempted to retake the muffin she looked forward to all week. The muffin she knew she'd only ever get half of.

 

On Tuesdays, they jogged before she went to work at his favorite park by the riverside. They'd either be lazy and feed ducks bread or they'd break into a race, which he always won. The only times he didn't, he'd let her take first place. It was a hollow victory. The bastard had long legs. While it was sexy, it also made him difficult to compete against, and she was _very_ competitive.

 

That was what made their Wednesday evenings so interesting. Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Yahtzee, Monopoly, Sorry, Backgammon, Chinese Checkers, Chess, whatever struck their fancy so long as it didn't involve technology. They generally started out with good sportsmanship. It wound up devolving into bickering over technicalities or downright viciousness. They'd had a particularly savage game of Sorry that they still weren't talking about.

 

Thursdays, Ben devoted time to working on his deadlines, so Noelle wouldn't lose her mind, and Rey paid attention to Finn, so he wouldn't leave a million voicemails about why she was ignoring him.

 

_"We're a family, Rey! I mean, don't make me choose sides… I really don't want to!"_

Interestingly enough, he hadn't exactly said whose side that would be, but Rey found she didn't have room in her life for toxicity. If he wanted Poe, he could have Poe. All she knew was that Finn was happy with the time she set aside for him and that he never brought the other man up anymore. That was good enough for the both of them.

 

On Fridays, they saw a movie. How this was carried out varied. So far, they'd gone to the theater to watch oldies, something new they'd wanted to see, or something new they wanted to make fun of, discussing all three hours into the night. They also had gone to a drive-in on a few memorable occasions—memorable because Ben owned a Porsche convertible, and it was comfortable as hell, not to mention the novelty of the event itself. Otherwise, they'd visit the other's apartment and watch a film there, or they'd do what they had done that first time and see something together over the phone.

 

Saturdays had her stomach in knots. They went somewhere nice to eat, his treat. She hated that he paid, but he never let her cover any of it, even her own half. And she had to take care with her clothing and hair, fussing with them for hours in advance. She wanted to look perfect. The way his face lit up when he saw her… It always did that, if she was being fair, yet on those moments when she really dressed up, she knew it: she took his breath away.

 

It was on Sundays that she missed him the most. He was busy with writing again, and Finn wasn't always available. She needed new friends. The thought was exhausting. She was too consumed with Ben Solo. He made her head spin.

 

And he had maddeningly stayed _the perfect gentleman_.

 

She couldn't get her nails done. She chewed on them so anxiously that it wasn't worth paying for the manicure for chipped polish (she couldn't get fail nails, she always broke them). And her phone—that, she waited by constantly. What would they talk about today? Would he answer right away? Would he finally realize she was too much for him and back off? Because that had become an increasing fear lately.

 

When had she begun to want him so badly?

 

They never did more than kiss. His hands never strayed to untoward places. He never asked her to stay the night or to stay over. He paid her compliments, none of them sexual in nature. It was like reading a teen fiction romance novel. Why wasn't he touching her?! Why wasn't he talking about her mouth on his cock again?! Why wasn't he doing shots off her body?! Did he not want _her_ anymore?

 

She finally grew desperate enough that she knew she had to talk to someone about it.

 

The bowling alley was slow, considering it was a Thursday night, as Rey watched Finn toss a ball down a lane, fouling in the process as his foot crossed the line. His name, where it was highlighted on the TV screen above them, had a mark put through his second turn. He cursed, his hands on his hips in his Peter Pan power stance.

 

_This was a mistake._

_Abort plan._

_Repeat: abort plan._

 

"What did you want to talk about, anyway?" Finn sank onto the sofa next to her. The bowling alley was relatively new, having opened five months ago. It had a fancy restaurant, an arcade room to put other arcades to shame, a laser tag and bumper car place, and one of those escape room gimmicks that were popular these days.

 

In other words, it was extremely nice. It was also extremely cheap that night. Ninety-nine cent games with five dollars for a pair of shoes. They were clearly trying to get more people into the building during the week to pay for the building's upkeep, as every day of the week had a different deal.

 

Finn had wanted to check the place out.

 

He'd neglected to mention he hadn't bowled in twelve years.

 

"Forget about it," she said, highly aware of her mobile in her purse. It was tucked safely beneath the cubby hole of their side of the table. Finn had gotten a tower of beer—they didn't sell pitchers—and she was careful with her devices, now especially. With how often she exchanged messages with Ben, she didn't want to risk coming out of pocket with money she didn't have for a new phone.

 

"Nah, nah…" He shook his head at her and waggled a finger. "I know that look. You're brooding. Might as well get it out now."

 

Rey hung her head. "Am I that transparent?" She was having to raise her voice to be heard over the music that pounded through the establishment. It ranged from every decade, maintaining an upbeat, poppy theme. At the moment, _Island in the Sun_ by Weezer was playing.

 

_When you are on a golden sea… You don't need no memory…_

"Yeah." Finn nodded with a grimace. "Yeah… Yeah, a bit, yeah."

_Just a place to call your own… As we drift into the zone…_

 

"I got it," Rey grated. "'Yeah.'"

 

He raised his hands to ward off her wrath. "Hey, man, you asked the question."

 

She stood and grabbed her bowling ball. She'd chosen it for the color—a pretty, swirly purple—and not the weight. She'd never gone bowling, and she didn't much mind about winning or not tonight. No, tonight was about… figuring out the inside of that man's head.

 

Rey swung, and the ball hit the floor with enough force to make her hiss through her teeth and wince.

 

"Shite," she said.

 

Surprisingly, it bowled over a few pins with it.

 

"Hey! Yes!"

 

She high-fived with Finn and grasped hands briefly.

 

"Now you get to go again!" he cheered. "And Rey?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"Try not to break the floor this time."

 

She rolled her eyes. "So long as you don't foul again," she muttered.

 

"What was that? Hey! Get back here! Rey!" Finn whined.

 

A minute later, she walked back to their seating area to see the screen. Hm. Seven points. Not bad for being her first time. Or so she figured. She really didn't know anything about bowling.

 

"Look… I need a man's opinion," she said as Finn sank his fingers into the three holes of his ball.

 

He jerked his head up. "Say what?"

 

She folded her arms and pressed her lips together, averting her eyes.

 

"On what? That Ben guy you've been throwing me over for?" Finn asked dryly.

 

She trailed him to their lane. "I haven't been throwing you over! You get me every—"

 

"I get you once a week," Finn stated bluntly. "I used to get you a lot more than that, but I'm settling since I like seeing you so happy." He paused to roll his ball, more carefully than he had last and behind the line. He got lucky, knocking all the pins down, and let out a whoop. Rey scowled.

 

All right, so maybe she cared about winning more than she was willing to admit.

 

This place wasn't half-bad. She'd ask Ben if he liked bowling. Take him here. See what unfolded. It'd be good to kick his arse at something else. Cathartic. Not that they were _keeping score_ or anything, but so far, they were pretty even on the playing field.

 

"What about you, Finn? Are you seeing anyone?" Rey asked, tugging her hair behind her ear.

 

"Don't change the subject. It's your turn."

 

Rey sighed and grabbed the purple ball. "It's just… he hasn't… _done anything_."

 

Her friend's brows furrowed with confusion. She didn't blame him. It _was_ confusing, damn it!

 

"'Done anything'?" Finn echoed.

 

She was less reckless with the ball, less showy. She'd read somewhere about the center arrows to roll true. She hefted the ball, swung it twice without releasing it, and then let it go smoothly. It listed to the right, half the pins toppling over.

 

"Yes!" She pumped her fist.

 

On her second turn, she hit nothing, her elation deflating in seconds.

 

Grrr…

 

"He hasn't done anything," Rey said, still casting dark glances at the lane on her way back to the ball dispenser. It was now The Enemy. She would _end it_ before the night was over. It would rue the day it had dared to present a challenge from the beginning. "Since I told him he could be in my life, could… court me… he hasn't done anything."

 

She shrugged, gnawing on the edge of her thumbnail, tapping her foot.

 

"Are you jonesing for something?" Finn asked warily.

 

"No!" she snapped. "Of course not! I just—I can't _think_ , all right?!" She shoved her fingers into her hair, squeezing the sides of her head in an ill-fated attempt to get her brain to shut up. "I'm constantly wondering what he's up to. If he's going to text me back. What he's doing if he takes a while. I mean, how do you know? How do you know if he's bored of you or not? How do I know he isn't? How do I know he's into me at all anymore, that he hasn't changed his mind because I'm—I don't know— _boring_ , like I said?!"

Rey threw her hands up. "I just—I can't! I'm doing everything I can to be interesting, you know?! He's so intelligent! God, the things he talks about! I mean, did you _know_ that there's this thing out there called the Hercules-Bor… Bor… Something-or-Other!"

 

"The Hercules-Corona Borealis Great Wall?" Finn put in.

 

"Yes!" Rey frowned. "You know about it?"

 

"I'm a fan of space," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just keep going." He had one arm folded over his chest, his chin resting on hand, his expression signaling that he was listening intently.

 

"Well, about that thing! And how it—kind of breaks—physics or something!"

 

"Technically, it—" Finn began excitedly.

 

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, FINN! GEEK OUT LATER!"

 

"Sorry. Go on."

 

"Whatever, look! He's handsome! So—so… so handsome!" Sinfully handsome. "So fit."

 

"That's a matter of opinion, I think…"

 

"And he—he always knows what to say! No matter what's happening with me, he… he handles me! And normally, that would aggravate me to no end, and it doesn't! And he's my favorite author, God, he has the most beautiful writing… Finn, I—I'm _me_ … I'm a fencing instructor, I don't _do_ anything…"

 

"Oh. My. God."

 

Thinking something had happened, Rey wrenched her head up at his alarmed tone. "What?"

 

His eyes were wide. "You're in love with him!" he accused.

 

"I…" Rey staggered back. "I—am _not_!"

 

"Are, too!"

 

"AM NOT!"

 

"ARE TOO, ARE TOO, ARE TOO!" Finn jumped and pointed.

 

"Stop doing that, you look ridiculous!" Rey shouted, hands fisted at her sides. "I am not, Finn! And I'm being serious! If he's so into me, then why hasn't he done anything?!"

 

Finn was hooting with laughter.

 

"Are you quite finished?" Rey said coolly.

 

He bent over, clutching his stomach, his body shaking silently. "Almost," he gasped.

 

She clucked her tongue and stared up at the ceiling, a hand on her cocked hip. "Any day now, Finn."

 

"…Whoo!" he said, coming up for breath. He shook his head. "Damn, girl! I was _not_ expecting that!"

 

Offended, though she didn't know why, Rey set her jaw. "And why is that?"

 

"Are you kidding?!" he chuckled. Seeing she wasn't, his chuckle deepened. "Come on, Rey."

 

"Come on, _what_?"

 

"You ran away from him in the bookstore! You avoided him for weeks!"

 

"And now I've spent the last three months with him! Isn't that a good indication that I—"

 

"Ahhhhh!" Finn crowed, shaking his finger at her in that annoying way of his. She was about to break it off. "You're in love, you're in love, you're in love."

 

"Keep saying it if you want your penis to stay attached to your person," she threatened.

 

"Whoa, hey, now. We don't have to bring it _there_." Finn grinned. "That's not really necessary, is it?"

 

"I don't know," she challenged. "Is it?"

 

"You get super scary like this." He gestured in a downward circle. "Your eyes flash. You look like the devil."

 

"Keep digging your grave, Finn!"

 

"Why is it such a big deal?" Finn sighed. "It means you've moved on, right? From Poe? It means you're happy?" He knocked his shoulder into hers companionably. "I don't think he doesn't want you. I think he's scared to spook you off again. You ran from him—"

 

"—in a bookstore, yeah, yeah, everyone keeps reminding me…"

 

Was Finn right?

 

Her stomach was clenched so tightly she couldn't breathe.

 

Was she in love with Ben?

 

* * *

 

 

"Stop being such a gentleman!"

 

Ben blinked.

 

Birds twittered in the early morning, sunlight filtering through the trees in the park and making dappled spots on the ground. Many denizens of the city were still asleep, leaving Ben mostly alone with Rey. Mostly—a couple was staring as they pushed past with a stroller, a baby fast asleep beneath its hood.

 

"Um…" Puzzled, he tilted his head. He was finally alert, the last of his grogginess slipping away. "Okay…"

 

Rey crossed her arms and swallowed. Unable to hold his gaze, she let her own drop to where she was smudging dirt around with the toe of her shoe.

 

"I thought that's what you wanted," Ben murmured, stepping close. "You said you wanted to move slow. Are you saying you want something else now?"

 

"No! Yes—I—" She wished her head would stop aching. She'd spent the last four days in agony deliberating over her feelings, and she _still_ didn't know. That's what she was telling herself, at least. She was too terrified of the real answer. "Do you still want me?"

 

"Do I still—?" Ben scoffed. "Are you being serious?"

 

"Yes," Rey said, wounded.

 

"No, I mean—" Ben clasped his hands over her upper arms and dragged her to him. He cupped her face in his palms once he deemed her close enough. "Are you serious?" Like this, she couldn't avoid the intensity in his brown eyes. "You _know_ how much I want you."

 

"I… I do?" She swallowed again.

 

"Rey…" He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. "You're all I ever fucking think about…" His hands lowered to circle her waist. They were so large, his fingertips almost touched, and with the way they were holding her, she could tell he wanted to move them along her body. "But I don't want to fuck this up. You said you wanted to go slowly."

 

"I did say that…" she whispered, distracted. His skin was so warm, she could feel it through her shirt.

 

"Did you change your mind?" he breathed.

 

His hands slid down, grasping her arse and pulling her against him, where she could feel his trapped erection against her. His teeth hooked over her ear, and she could hear how his breath trembled. Her eyes rolled back a little, her nerves already sensitive. It had been months—she was like an untapped source of sexual tension.

 

"This is what you do to me," he murmured. "Like I'm a goddamn teenager again."

 

She exhaled raggedly.

 

He pressed a kiss to the column of her throat that she felt all the way down to her core, where it was tingling between her thighs.

 

"Please tell me you've changed your mind…" he whispered.

 

They were in the middle of a bloody park, and she hadn't a care in the world about it.

 

All she could do was moan.


	13. What Happens in the Office...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but considering the content, I didn't want to rush it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

"I've—I've got to get to work," Rey managed. It was somewhat disconcerting, the effort required to concentrate on vocalizing words.

 

"Answer me first." Ben's teeth nibbled delicately along her collarbone.

 

It was lucky they were in the middle of the park. It required prudent behavior. Otherwise would get the police involved.  

 

Or it was _un_ lucky, her hormones were thinking. It had been so long, and he wanted her so badly, and she certainly wanted _him_ … How wet she was testified to _that_. It was a dull, insistent ache, one she couldn't ignore for much longer. It was exacerbated as he feathered the tips of his fingers along the backs of her thighs.

 

 _You have to answer him_ , she urged herself. _You have to, or he won't stop, and this_ has _to stop—you can't beg off work. You can't afford to get fired._

 

She had hoped it would sober her up to reality, a plunge of refreshing cold water to remind her of their surroundings and the fact that more people were entering the park. It didn't. Ben was skilled in the art of distraction. That gift for writing went beyond the paper, it would seem.  

There was a lump in her throat that didn't wish to budge. Speaking around it was a beast. "Maybe I've—"

 

He wasn't having any of it. "No maybes," he growled against her neck, drawing shivers down her spine. "Yes or no."

 

He caressed. It took everything within her to put her hands on her chest and _push_ , and even then, it was with only the lightest of nudges. He let her go—highly reluctantly. She could see it in his eyes. They were on the same page. She'd tell him so to soothe him, but then, she feared, she'd never make it to her job.

 

"We'll have to discuss it once I get off work," she said, quite raggedly.

 

Ben didn't comment. His eyes were smoldering, searing through her.

 

Her throat tightened, threatened to choke her. "Okay?" she squeaked out. "I'll see you after work."

 

And she jogged off while she still had the willpower to not get arrested for public indecency.

 

She could feel his eyes on her until she disappeared around the corner.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey had a fifteen-minute break between her first and second class, and she used it to check her phone. Her office was in the corner of the fencing room, its blinds drawn. It was a tiny area; however, it was large enough to fit a desk, a cabinet, and a small loveseat. In the end, it left very little walking room. This suited Rey well. She didn't like visitors.

 

_Finn: I met this girl. Can I come by at lunch? I gotta talk about her in person. She's amazing, Rey!_

_Ben Solo: I need to see you. When can I?_

A sense of duty warred with her libido. It had been so long since such a thing had happened that the latter won out.

 

She responded to Finn first.

 

_Me: How about drinks tonight instead?_

And then, to Ben:

 

_Me: I'm free for lunch._

Finn _zinged_ her back pretty much immediately.

 

_Finn: Rey! Come on! You're KILLING me! I need you! You get that dude all week!_

Guilt niggled at her like piranha in the Amazon. Or, more accurately where it concerned Finn, like a damn piranha plant in the new Super Mario Bros. games, when one of them would screw up and get their arses munched. Drat. When was the last time they had really sat down and played a good round of video games together?

 

_Me: Damn it, Finn! You're the one who pointed out that I may be in love with Ben Solo!_

_Finn: I said you are in love with Ben Solo!_

_Me: Whatever! The point is, I'm trying to work through some stuff, and I only have one lunch break, and some shite when down this morning, and I need to see him! Can we PLEAAASEEEE—_

—and she had to fool with autocorrect for a hot minute to get those caps to come out to her satisfaction—

 

_Me: get together tonight for drinks!_

_Finn: FINE! BUT YOU OWE ME!_

_Me: I do! Big! Thank you, Finn!_

_Finn: Her name is Rose. She's so sweet._

The clang of one épée smacking against another greeted her ears, and she groaned.

 

Freshmen.

 

She kicked open her door and stuck her head around it. "CLASS HAS NOT BEGUN!" she bellowed, tossing her phone on her desk and forgetting about it. "Put those down before you poke an eye out!"

 

A jock's guffawing was met with a smattering of applause.

 

_Gits._

* * *

 

 

There was one more class until lunch, and Rey expected to find at least one message from Ben on her mobile. What she'd received in excess instead was Finn's ramblings on a girl named Rose.

 

Rose was an interesting name. Very… flowery, of course. Different from what Rey was dealing with. Finn didn't date often, and when he did, the women he chose were—well. Rey minded her own business. "Lively" would be an understatement, and it would be putting it nicely. Their names were often exotic, and they'd string Finn along for weeks before dumping him as quickly as they'd arrived. A whirlwind romance, Rey had taken calling them to herself. She never intervened. No, she only comforted him in the emotionally gory aftermath.

 

_Finn: She's a mechanic._

Not a dancer from Ibiza, crashing at his flat for a month, wracking up parties and noise violations that almost lost him the place.

 

_Finn: She's only a couple years younger than me._

Therefore, a couple of years older than Rey.

 

_Finn: I really can't wait for you to meet her!_

Rey smiled. Honestly, there wasn't any possible way to keep it from her lips. No matter where his heart led him, a happy Finn was a luminous thing, and intoxicating at that. Finn held that power over people, the ability to sway their moods, to attune them to the level of his heart. It was a bloody good thing he was oblivious to it.

 

_Me: I'm happy for you. Where do you want to meet tonight? The usual?_

_Finn: Yeah!_

Ten more texts followed in rapid succession, and Rey put down her phone to read them later. If she wanted that drink and a snack she had set out for, she didn't have time for it. She tucked her mobile away in her desk drawer and reached behind the desk itself for the mini fridge to crack open a flavored water and grab some carrot sticks.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time lunch arrived, she was in a foul mood. Not only had her thoughts kept straying to that morning in the park, her third class wasn't full of the sharpest minds. Winding through all of that were the last three months of Ben. All the mornings she'd seen his groggy smile, all the evenings she'd elicited a laugh from him, all the naps she'd taken on his shoulder. And what of that first night, when she'd so brazenly done shots with him? She could still taste the lime and tequila, the salt of his skin…

 

Sexually frustrated. There was no other way to spin it.

 

She could barely recall that night, and it'd probably always remain that way, given that it had been close to six months, and there were giant holes in her memory about it. Flashes here and there, the last she'd received when she'd been introduced to his study. Now, granted, she'd avoided going into his room… it was _possible_ something remained in there to shake remnants of that night free, yet she doubted it. Strongly.

 

Hadn't it been long enough? Sex she couldn't even remember! And, _God_ , Ben's body—pressed to hers like that, a second skin as it were, there that morning in the park… The evidence of his arousal… The perfect musculature of him… The way she'd wanted to run her hands all over him, ending with grabbing his cock, and—

 

His husky voice, in her ear—

 

Her body had been a continual throbbing, uncomfortable mess all day.

 

She made her way to her office and unearthed her mobile. She'd message Ben, find out what he wanted to do for lunch. Her heart fell somewhat when she saw a zillion more texts from Finn and none from Ben. It didn't mean anything, she reassured herself. He was likely waiting on her direction. She'd left him in the park.

 

Her office door slammed open.

 

The rudeness stiffened her back. "Excuse me, you could knock—"

 

"I'm not knocking," an all too familiar voice growled.

 

Liquid heat twanged through her stomach and down to her core.

 

Then Ben was on her, arms snagging under her thighs as he lifted her and smashed her against the door, closing it with their combined weight. His mouth seized hers, his tongue darting past her lips and dominating hers with a fire she couldn't hope to stop—didn't want to stop. Christ, every time she thought he couldn't possibly get hotter, he proved her wrong.

 

"Make a decision," he ordered, one large hand holding her up while the other worked on getting her athletic pants and panties off her rear. "Right now."

 

She locked the door. "Yes."

 

"Yes, what?" He bit at her neck, suckled her flesh until she cried out. His fingers found the heat between her thighs and stroked vigorously.

 

Oh, fuck.

 

"Yes, I changed my mind. Yes—"

 

He slid a finger inside of her.

 

"That's not going to be enough," she groaned.

 

"Funny, that's what you said the last time, too," he murmured.

 

Two more joined the first, and she had to bite back her cries. She was wet enough that he didn't have to stretch her very much before the friction was so good that she was grinding down against it. His mouth attacked hers, and she met it head-on, her hands jerking to get the belt on his jeans open. She wanted what was inside more than she wanted to breathe.

 

"I don't have the patience for slow," she panted, trembling. She got her hand inside his jeans, her fingers curling around him. What she found had her cunt clenching around his fingers as she grew positively drenched. He smothered a moan on her shoulder around a bite. "I need you now."

 

The next thing she knew, her back was bouncing on the couch. He was above her soon after, settling between her thighs. He jerked one up around his hip after yanking her pants the rest of the way off, taking her shoes and socks with them. She was too excited by the prospect of what was about to happen to be embarrassed about her body. She snatched his shirt in her hands and yanked him down to her.

 

"What part of _now_ didn't you understand?" she growled.

 

"Feisty," he said, as breathless as she.

 

His head caught on her entrance.

 

Their eyes met.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked, his chest rising and falling heavily. His lips were dark, bruised from their kissing. His hair was tousled, his shirt crumpled. She could tell he was barely holding back from claiming her, that it was taking all he had to be a gentleman with her, even here.

 

"Get. In. Me," she hissed, appreciating the sentiment all the same.

 

Ben braced himself on the loveseat, gripped her hip, kissed her soundly, and pushed in.

 

Oh—

 

Bloody—

 

 _Hell_ —

 

She bit the inside of her lip to stifle a groan, her eyes rolling back in her head as it tipped back. He used this opportunity to rain kisses on her neck as he slid in inch by precious, delicious inch. Her body welcomed him in heady rushes, and she had to grip onto his flexed biceps, gasping as her core stretched around him.

 

"Oh, fuck, Rey," he moaned into her ear. His lips were loving, sweet, contrasting with the sudden absence of his cock. She mewled in protest, only to dig her nails into his chest when he thrust back into her to the hilt, jolting her entire body on the loveseat. It stole the air from her lungs.

 

"You're beautiful," he murmured over and over again as he set up that wonderfully brutal place that made her cling to him. "You're so fucking beautiful…"

 

She buried her face in his neck.

 

Ben rubbed at her clit. "I'm not going to last long. I haven't been with anyone since that night."

 

Tears unexpectedly touched her lashes. He hadn't?

 

Rey kissed him hard, and when she crested moments later, spilling fluid over his fingers, the cry he attempted to muffle was hoarse. Her cunt was tight around him, slick heat, milking him for all he was worth. He had to withdraw with a choked, almost boyish sound, holding onto his cock as he jerked it, his seed splattering over her stomach.

 

"Shit," he cursed, his head bowed, his hair hanging into his face.

 

She collapsed into the cushions, dizzy with… with everything she didn't want to admit.

 

Everything she could see in his eyes as they met hers once more.

 

She wasn't sure she could handle it if he said it right now.

 

And Rey could only think of one way in that moment to head it off without disaster striking.

 

"Let's be together," she choked out.

 

That, she wanted. That, she could handle.

 

"In a relationship," she clarified, since he was staring at her like he wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly. And, when he continued to stare, "Monogamous."

 

More staring.

 

She stirred anxiously. Had she misread the situation…?

 

"You and me? The two of us, together, not sharing each other—?"

 

She broke off.

 

He was kissing her too fiercely for her to answer, and she chuckled through it, because she knew that was a yes, and she knew they were both happy, and she knew that was everything.


	14. Famous Last Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of plot at the end for skippers.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

 

 

"Why are we at your apartment again?"

 

"Because," Rey said, trying to catch her breath as Ben deposited her on her kitchen counter. Her head pressed to the cabinets above her. He was wasting little time in getting her pants and panties off her hips again. Four hours, a measly four hours, and he wouldn't make it without her a second longer. Or so silently exclaimed his lips on hers, bruising them with the intensity of their hunger, their passion.

 

She could hardly get a word out, not that this was a terrible… position to… be… good _gad_ , what had she been going to _say_?  

 

"I promised—mmnn—Finn—I'd meet him for drinks, and—" Right. Best get her wits about her. She was master of her libido. She would be brought down by no man.

 

Her lower lip became prisoner of his teeth. The way he released it was slow and torturous, and if she didn't know any better—and she believed she did—she would have sworn that this was the hallmark move he'd used in many of his novels by his rakish protagonists. Well. The rakes were, of course, quite reformed in the end, she thought around a moan. Copied—created-copied?—move or not, it felt so…

 

"I need to change," Rey was gasping.

 

Ben dropped to his knees.

 

"And—what are you doing?"

 

He set his mouth against her core and sucked. Hard.

 

"Bloody—" She braced one hand against a cabinet, the other against the counter, her hips bucking. His hands caught her thighs and held her in place. It was just as well; she couldn't have stayed still if her life depended on it. In defiance to the gentlemanly nature he'd displayed for months and keeping with the rough and tumble theme of the day, his tongue was a wicked, delightful torment.

 

Ben suckled on her clit, and her hand on the counter found his hair. He yanked one of her thighs over his shoulder and shoved three fingers into her without preamble. She choked on a yell, having more leverage now to grind against his mouth. This had escalated so quickly. She had barely kept her wits around him before… what would it be like now?

 

"Hey," she panted, tugging on him. "If you keep that up, I'm going to—"

 

"I know," he rumbled, barely parting from her folds.

 

Christ.

 

His tongue roved briefly over his fingers, up through her folds—flicked hard along her clit. She spasmed slightly, biting into her wrist, her nails digging into his scalp. If it wasn't for her paper-thin walls, she wouldn't have bothered muffling her cries. Her other hand refused to settle. It left his hair to pound the countertop, to smack the cabinet, to clench her own hair.

 

"Ben, I—"

 

He sucked harder.

 

A moan exploded from her as her orgasm rushed her. She was vaguely aware of both of her hands cupping the back of Ben's neck. Her head tilted to the ceiling, her eyes rolling back before they shut. She rocked her hips through it, riding that wave until she was limp, panting, laughing with only a wisp of sound.

 

He pressed wet kisses to her inner thigh.

 

"You were saying?" he asked innocently, resting his cheek near her hip.

 

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not as good at that as you think you are."

 

"Of course, I am. I'm good at anything I put my mind to." He rubbed her swollen clit. "Exhibit A, I believe."

 

"Ben Solo, you don't have an innocent bone in your body," Rey said tartly. "And that wasn't good."

 

His eyebrows rose. "No?"

 

She grinned. "It was _amazing_."

 

* * *

 

 

Clutching her pillow and burying her face in it was the best she could do to smother her shouts. Behind her, Ben pounded into her, his large hands wrapped around her hips. She met him thrust for thrust, since such a thing was much easier to do in this position. She was more than slick from his thoughtful ministrations in the kitchen, and he was able to go deeper than he had in her office.

 

"I'm going to be late," she groused without much heat.

 

"When we go back to my place," he rasped between thrusts, one hand splayed over the center of her back, "and we _are_ going back to my place… We're going to do this slow… I want to take my time with you… worship every inch of this precious body…"

 

"S-Shut it," she said, blushing.

 

"I won't." He tugged her up, securing an arm about her waist. He kissed her shoulder, buried his face in her neck. "You're fucking precious to me. Accept it." His fingers found their way to her nipple and squeezed.

 

"So bloody pushy…"

 

"So fucking stubborn."

 

"All right, Ben Solo," she moaned, her head tilting onto his shoulder. She could hardly argue with him when he was buried in her like this, taking her to such heights. "For now, you win."

 

The sarcastic remark she'd come to expect was replaced with a hand gently cupping her face. His mouth touched hers. He kissed her with the rhythm of their bodies, hard, fast, a hand gliding down her stomach, collecting perspiration. It found her folds. She jerked all over as he toyed with her over-sensitive clit.

 

She hadn't really thought it was possible to come together with someone. She'd figured it was fabricated to sound more romantic or whatnot.

 

She was glad to find she'd been wrong.

 

And that also they'd used a condom this time, like sensible adults.

 

Sensible adults foolishly, hopelessly in—

 

No.

 

No, she wasn't going there.

 

Not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

"Finn is going to kill me," Rey said for the eighth time—Ben had been keeping record, the arse.

 

"We'll be there soon," the aforementioned arse said from his side of the cab. He didn't look up from his phone. Rey chewed on her lip and watched the buildings flash past the window.

 

She was incredibly late. She'd messaged ahead to let him know she was nearly there, but that didn't mean Finn wasn't going to be angry. Rey would have been. They were generally reliable, they two, and Finn had been a tad upset over Rey's absence as of late—

 

"He has this—who now?"

 

"Rose," Rey replied.

 

"Yeah, this Rose person."

 

Rey found this to be quite ambiguous, and she stared blankly at him to let him know it.

 

"What?"

 

"What does that have to do with anything?"

 

Ben sighed. "He didn't have a woman in his life before. He does now. He's not lonely anymore. He'll stop being as upset about the two of you not spending as much time together."

 

"You're wrong," Rey said stiffly. "He's had girlfriends in his life before, and that didn't matter."

 

"But were they like this Rose?" Ben argued.

 

"…Well, no," Rey admitted. "Not from what it seems like."

 

"Don't worry about it, then," he replied. "It'll be fine. I promise."

 

What was it they said about famous last words?

 


	15. Because Why Not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten some concerned messages over the past weeks asking as to my whereabouts and how it's unlike me to vanish. It is. Thanks for those who reached out to me. I'll have an explanation; for those who simply want to enjoy the update, no hard feelings! Enjoy! :)
> 
> Long story short, I got kicked out in a very brutal, personal fashion from my family while my husband I were getting on our feet while he was getting into his new job. This led to a very bad round of depression, among other things, and we're currently perched at his in-laws until about a month from now. I didn't want to write—I didn't want to do anything. But I feel like I'm finally getting back into the groove of things, and so I'm going to start with…

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

  

Three things happened in rapid succession once Rey entered the bar she was meeting Finn at:

 

She removed the cigarette from his mouth, causing the frown he had waiting for her to deepen tenfold, and crushed it in the ashtray on the high-top table he was seated at.

 

Someone she didn't recognize—a woman with a sweet smile—perked up at her appearance and nervously touched her dark hair. Finn's girlfriend? He hadn't mentioned that he was bringing her, not that Rey minded.

 

And Poe Dameron came out of the bathroom, looking for all the world like he belonged there, like he'd been _invited_.

 

Rey tossed her purse onto the table and cocked a hip, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. "Listen, Serena Waterford, while I appreciate the resting bitch face, what I _don't_ appreciate is the fact that you brought Poe here!"

 

The girlfriend's smile fell, and she grew uneasy.

 

Finn narrowed his eyes right back. "First of all, Miss I'm-Totally-Trying-to-Distract-Finn-So-That-I-Get-Out-of-Trouble-for-Being-Late-and-Bringing-Mr.-Creepy—"

 

" _Don't_ call him that!"

 

"—It's Serena _Joy_ , thank you—" Finn pretended to do a hair flip with his imaginary locks. "And you must be hallucinating, since Poe isn't really here, so fact-check before you…" He trailed off as Poe caught sight of them, waved, and headed their way. "Poe."

 

Judging by how surprised he was, Rey had no choice but to believe that he really hadn't known Poe was on the premises.

 

"You were saying?" Rey said tightly.  

 

"Under His Eye," Finn muttered, and he knocked back the last of his bottled beer.

 

Poe rubbed his hands, for all the world in his usual perky state. "What's up? Fancy seeing you guys here!"

 

Rey carefully avoided his gaze. It wasn't that she wasn't over Poe, it was that she didn't want to deal with him because he was a toxic, cankerous spot in the healthy wash of the past few months. It was a process she should have gotten on with years ago, the same way anyone would deal with the drama of a person bringing their life down.

 

"Hey, girl, hey…" Finn said weakly. He cleared his throat and spoke up. "Welllll, guys, this is my girlfriend, Rose!" He put his arm around her and squeezed. It made Rey smile. Yes, she was very different from Finn's usual string of affairs. Rey liked her already. "Poe, I was planning on introducing you to her later, and I wasn't expecting Rey's boyfriend to be here, but since you're _all_ here…"

 

Rey flushed. Ben. Her boyfriend. It was going to take a minute to get used to that.  

 

She looked up at him to see how he was doing. Thus far, he'd been called Mr. Creepy and had encountered her ex-love, all within a timespan of two minutes. But, if anything, he was bemused, taking it all in stride with the expression of someone who was just along for the ride. It made her consumed with the need to grab his hand, and so she did, lacing their fingers together and resting her cheek against his bicep. She wasn't normally given to such public displays of affection. However, in this case, she was making an exception.

 

Did she really think he was unmoved by any of this? No. Of course not. He was, however, keeping it together for her.

 

Ben glanced down at her, then chuckled and released her hand to put an arm around her shoulders. It felt… good, pressed against his side like this. She sank into him gratefully.

 

"Oh, you two are cute!" Rose complimented with a slight gush.

 

Rey couldn't seem to keep herself from beaming. How very embarrassing. "Thank you!"

 

"Uh… cute, yeah, sure. That's one word for it," Finn muttered and promptly got a whap to his arm for his trouble. "Woman, ow!"

 

"Don't 'woman, ow' me when you're being rude," Rose scolded. "Anyway…" She held out her hand to all three of them and shook them in turn, and it was not a feminine grip by any means. "It's nice to meet you—Poe, Rey—what did you say your name was?"

 

"I didn't. It's Ben."

 

"Ben."

 

They all sat at the table.

 

This wasn't awkward _at all_.

 

A server came by and asked what they wanted to drink or eat. Poe "gallantly" claimed he had the tab covered, to which the rest of the group looked distinctly uncomfortable. Since Rose and Finn had already ordered and didn't want any food, they passed. Poe tilted his head expectantly at Ben and Rey.

 

Ben's eyes slid to the server. "I'd like a tab of my own." He gave her his ID and credit card. "Along with her," he added, indicating Rey. "Scotch, neat. What do you want?"

 

"The same," Rey muttered.

 

"Dude, be cool," Rey heard Finn whisper to Poe.

 

The server left, but Rey caught her expression just before she did, and it said that she thought they were all a bit _loco_.

 

 _Indeed, Random Stranger I Will Never See Again. Indeed,_ Rey thought.

 

"I am being cool," Poe muttered back, leaning back in his seat with an arm across the back of the stool. He nodded at Ben with that man-chin-thing guys did to appear macho or whatever it was. Rey hadn't quite figured it out. Whenever she did it to Finn, he laughed at her. So much for solidarity.

 

Poe's smile was this side of icy. "So… what, exactly, do you do? The only real time I saw you, you were doing body shots off Rey."

 

"That is, like, the _opposite_ of cool!" Finn exploded.

 

Rey's throat tightened. Her hands curled into fists in her lap. Nerves began to dance in her stomach.

 

It was going to be this way, was it?

 

Ben chuckled. "Well, _you're_ easily intimidated."

 

Poe drew back, and the offense he had taken at that statement was almost comical in the way his face contorted. "Excuse me?"

 

Finn groaned and buried his face in his hands. Rey would have, too, if she wasn't so focused on the current exchange before her and the rage she had simmering just below the surface. Rose, bless her soul, was doing her best not to sink beneath the table and disappear. What a way to be introduced to Finn's best mates. It would be a night to remember, that was for certain.

 

The server returned, placing Ben and Rey's drinks before them. "Can I get you guys anything else?" _Pleasesaynopleasesaynopleasesayno_ was screaming out of her pores.

 

"No," Rey said with a sweet smile, her eyes telling the server to run, and run now. "That'll be it, thanks."

 

The girl beat it.

 

Rey took her scotch and downed it one gulp, her eyes tearing up as fire exploded through her.

 

Ah, that was the stuff.

 

"You going to elaborate on that statement, pal?" Poe's honey brown eyes narrowed. He gripped the neck of the bottle of beer he'd carried over with him.

 

"I don't think I need to," Ben said pleasantly. He had yet to touch his scotch.

 

It was time to intercede. "Poe, you're drunk," Rey said gently. Over the years, she'd learned that the best way to handle a drunk Poe was to shepherd him in a non-confrontational manner, elsewise it never ended well. "Maybe you should get some coffee?"

 

"I'm not _drunk_ ," Poe said with a stubborn set to his jaw.

 

Right. Belligerent Poe. The _Alpha Male_ , as he would refer to himself once things really got going. This sometimes happened.

 

"Should I go ahead and get out the measuring stick?" Rey snapped. "Try and head this off now?"

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Poe muttered sulkily.

 

"If you're going to sit at the table, be nice," Rey replied, "or go."

 

"I _am_ being nice." Poe flung his hand at Ben. " _He's_ the one who turned into a jackass right off the bat. All I asked was what he did for a living."

 

"It was _how_ you asked," Rey snipped, bristling. "And how you insulted me in the process."

 

"I don't—"

 

"You're _married_ , Poe."

 

Rose's eyes were so wide, and she had her arms wrapped around Finn's elbow. Finn himself was steering clear, buried in his beer.

 

"I know that," Poe snarled.

 

"Then _what_ is your problem?" Rey countered. "I have a boyfriend. Get over it. Don't insult either of us."

 

Poe laughed so derisively that Ben finally tensed. Rey put her hand on his leg under the table to still him. Ben shot her a frustrated look, but he bit his tongue. Rey wanted to handle this. For now. This wasn't like Poe, not at all, and she was sorry that they were all seeing the bad side of him tonight.

 

Poor Rose.

 

"' _Boyfriend_ '?" Poe quoted once he had gotten that out of his system. "How many months ago was it that you were telling me how you've been in love with me for the entire time you've known me?"

 

It was a knife straight to the gut, to the heart, to the soul.

 

"Dude, ah…" Finn slowly set his beer on the table with a firm, decisive click. "You gotta go."

 

"Fine." Poe's stool scraped over the floor. He took his beer with him as he hopped down and saluted Rey with it. He paused beside her on his way out. "I hope he's worth it."

 

That did it.

 

"Poe, I need to speak with you outside." Ignoring everyone else's counsel to leave it, Rey jumped out of her stool, snatched Poe by the arm, and dragged him out of the bar. Once they were on the busy, crowded sidewalk, the sounds of the city filling their ears as the music of the bar receded, she let him have it. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!"

 

"Nothing," he said darkly. "I just don't like your boyfriend, that's all."

 

"Come off it!" Rey yelled. She rolled her eyes. "You don't like my boyfriend, that's all? That's the best line you've got? Well, I have news for you!" Passerby were glancing over curiously. Rey ignored them. "You don't get to like my boyfriend or not! And you don't get to talk to me that way! This is my life! You never noticed how I felt! You got married!"

 

He wouldn't look at her.

 

Rey stepped in front of him, her hands angled at her chest in supplication. "Stop acting this way; this isn't you!"

 

"I tried to reach out to you!" Poe still had his beer from the bar, and he tossed it in a trashcan now. He kicked the latter after and dragged a hand through those unruly curls, his other fist on his hip. "You keep ignoring me! What the fuck am I supposed to think, Rey? I have a best friend—then suddenly, I don't, and I don't know why—and then she tells me she loved me for years, _after_ I got married to someone else, _after_ she had her chance—"

 

"That doesn't give you the right to come here and be an utter dick—and I never had a chance!" Christ, what was going to make him see the light? "If I had had one, you would have seen how I felt! _Years_ , Poe, and you never saw how I felt!"

 

"I still—reached out to you!" Poe reiterated, stepping into her space, his hands before him. She backed up a step, and he followed. "I still—tried! Why won't you talk to me?!"

 

"Because there isn't anything left to say!" Rey cried, beyond exasperation and entering the land of—of—what, she didn't know, but it whatever it was, it wasn't doing him any favors.

 

"What if I made a mistake?" Poe asked suddenly.

 

_Wha-bam!_

 

All the breath knocked out of her lungs for the second time in ten minutes.

 

"Huh? What about that?" Poe challenged. " _That's_ something to talk about—which you'd _know_ , if you'd answer your Goddamn phone!"

 

"You're drunk." The words were soft. Rey had to keep control of her emotions; she could not put them at his feet any longer. He had trampled over them enough. "Go home, Poe."

 

"I mean it." Poe reached for her, and she deftly sidestepped. "Rey, listen—"

 

"No—"

 

"Seriously, come on—"

 

" _No_!"

 

"Just give me two seconds—"

 

"NO!"

 

"But—"

 

"YOU ONLY MISS ME BECAUSE I'M NOT IN YOUR LIFE ANYMORE!" Rey screamed. The effort stole the rest of her breath, and she panted, listening to the screech of brakes in the aftermath as lights turned red. Poe gazed at her, lost, confused, the wind toying with his curls.

 

And she didn't _care_.

 

"You're married now, and I'm with someone. I'm happy. Don't you understand? I'm with someone, for the first time in years, who makes me happy." Saying the words out loud like this made Rey realize how true they were. "I wake up every day with a smile on my face. You should feel the same—with your _wife_."

 

"I made a mistake…" Poe whispered.

 

"Go _home_ ," Rey stressed.

 

"Rey—"

 

"I think she told you to get lost enough fucking times by now," Ben's voice growled from nearby. They both whirled to find him at the entrance of the bar, his arms folded, his expression menacing. "Get the fuck out of here. Go drink it off or whatever the hell else you have to do, but stay the fuck away from Rey."

 

Poe wanted to argue. It was in his nature. He opened his mouth—yet he must have seen something on Ben's face, because he gave a growl of his own and stalked off down the street, his fists in his pockets. Rey watched him go, her heart a heavy rock in her stomach.

 

"…You okay?" Ben's tone had considerably softened.

 

"I will be," Rey replied. She sighed. "…Look, this isn't… like him. He's not himself lately."

 

"It's not an excuse for the things he said," Ben said gruffly.

 

Finn and Rose materialized from behind Ben's broad shoulders. "Hey, are you okay?" Finn asked worriedly. " _Man_ , that was intense. I don't know what the hell his problem is, but that was _so_ not cool. I can't believe he just… came at you like that."

 

 _I can_ , Rey thought.

 

It was as she'd said. Poe had lost his best mate, and he was taking—and interpreting—it poorly.

 

"Come on!" Rey said, forcing a cheerful smile onto her face. "Let's not let it ruin the night! We're here for you and Rose! Let's go back inside!"

 

Finn was all-too-willing, and Rose was immensely, wordlessly grateful. But as Rey brushed past Ben, she saw his face. He wanted to discuss this more later.

 

* * *

 

 

It was unsettling when Ben didn't talk.

 

Not that he talked overly much, anyway, Rey fretted inwardly. It was just that there were _differences_ between the not talking and the _not talking_. For instance, at the moment, instead of a comfortable ride in the cab through downtown back to Ben's place, things were, noticeably…

 

Tense wasn't it. Uncomfortable, slightly awkward, and a number of other synonyms that ran the gamut, yes, _those_ all made the list. Tense simply wasn't one of them. Neither was anger. What on _earth_ was he thinking about? It was awfully difficult to tell. This was a strange notion to Rey, who had grown used to a Ben who remained open, who shared everything with her.

 

Now she may as well have been on the other side of the world, not sitting directly beside him, observing how the passing streetlights cast shadows over his features. The last only served to help muddy matters. Now she couldn't get a read on his expression, either.

 

She could not take it one second longer. "What _are_ you thinking?"

 

That faint smile of his touched the corner of his mouth. "How fucking adorable you are when you're intimidated by me."

 

"Shut up—I am not—" Rey sputtered. "Not everyone is intimidated by y—"

 

"You are. It's okay." Ben sighed and grasped her hand on the seat between them. He continued to gaze out the window. "I'm being antisocial as fuck right now. I just… hate that guy. I agree with everything you said. That he's lonely and misreading it, but I hate him, anyway."

 

Rey didn't know what to say. Would it matter? He wouldn't want to hear it, whatever she came up with. And she was too tired to defend Poe anymore, anyway. She'd said what she had to say… Poe wasn't himself. It didn't need to be repeated.

 

"I get jealous," Ben said softly, after a while.

 

Rey yanked her eyes from her window. She'd been numbly counting the number of people strolling past. Twenty-two, so far. There wasn't a large number of them out tonight; not on the sidewalks, at any rate, not in this part of town.

 

"I consider you mine now. Aren't you?" he continued.

 

Her lips shaped words uselessly until one choked free. His eyes were too intense for any other outcome. Her throat couldn't stay sealed up. "Yes," she said.

 

He pulled her hand to his mouth, his lips dragging across her knuckles. "Good."

 

"Good," she echoed faintly.

 

"Now I'm going to ask you some questions, and I don't want you to get pissed at me," he murmured, eyeing her over her hand, which he had yet to stop placing gentle kisses to. She tried to ignore the shivers breaking out from each brush of those warm lips—this was incredibly unfair of him. He was _cheating_. He was well-aware of what he did to her.

 

"I make no promises," she managed to rasp.

 

"Hm," he chuckled, closing his eyes, letting his mouth rest against her skin. "Have you been talking to him since the night you told him how you felt?"

 

"Not once," she said truthfully.

 

"And if I said I don't want you to talk to him even if you decided you felt like you could again?" He rested his cheek on her hand, faced away from her so she couldn't see his expression.

 

Rey's initial instinct was to tell someone to bugger off if they thought they could control who she spoke to. But then she put the situation in a reversed perspective, and she understood where he was coming from. Not only that, but he'd pined after her for months…

 

"I won't," she whispered. "Because I respect you."

 

He tugged on her arm, and she was in his lap despite seatbelt safety, and his face was buried in her hair.

 

"Thank you," he breathed into it. "Thank you…"

 

Rey was once again at a loss for words. She hadn't seen him like this before.

 

"You're welcome," she whispered back, realizing how much this meant to him. It made her put her arms around his neck and rest her cheek against his.

 

Ben Solo… insecure.

 

Her heart, the dratted thing, melted just a little more.


	16. I'm Not Freaking Out, You're Freaking Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!
> 
> The synonyms listed in order for "elated" belong to thesaurus.com.

 

* * *

 

 

_For Carla_

* * *

 

  

Rey had always enjoyed getting a manicure.

 

It was, after all, time to herself to be pampered, all alone, no interruptions, complete girl time. It was truly the best, a favorite pastime, and with meeting one of Ben's best friends—and, more importantly, his mother—ahead of her, she needed to ensure she looked her best.

 

_So then why had Finn insisted on tagging along with her?!_

"Men get manicures, too," he was saying.

 

"Uh huh," she grunted, the noise earning her a glance from her nail technician. His statement wasn't something she cared to refute. Why bother when it was true? There were three other men in the salon at that very moment.

 

"I mean, you can see them right over there," he went on.

 

What was he rambling _on_ about?

 

"You look incredibly cranky today," he observed.

 

She paused to give him her most annoyed expression.

 

"Whoa." He raised his eyebrows. "And what did I do to you?"

 

"Finn, why are you _here_?" she demanded in a low hiss, since the majority of the salon was quiet. She wasn't fond of the idea of their entire conversation being heard by the other five customers of the place over the tranquil classical music playing on the speakers.

 

"Does it _matter_?" he retorted. "You're my homie. My hombre. My _bro_. My—"

 

"I get the idea!"

 

"Are you hungover again?" he asked with a sage nod. "I get it—"

 

"I am _not_ hungover!" She took a deep breath—expelled it after she'd given a mental count to ten. "Finn, no offense, but you have been up my arse all week! _What_ is going on with you?!"

 

"I haven't been up your ass all week!" Finn fired back. "You won't _let_ me!"

 

Rey gave him a look as the nail technician got out the gel polish.

 

"Well, you won't," he said defensively. "You have your 'Ben Time.'"

 

"You know what I mean," Rey replied, in something of a more patient tone as she gathered her composure. "And you know I don't mind spending time with you. But you keep _rambling_. And you only ramble like an obsessed person when you have something on your mind. So: spill. What's going on?"

 

"Nothing is—"

 

"I won't ask again. This is your last chance," she warned.

 

He sighed. Heavily. "Well… as you know… I've been in a relationship with Rose for several months now…"

 

 _Had_ it been several months now? she thought. That meant it was the same for Ben and herself. Wow. That… well… She didn't know how to feel about that. It was unnerving. But not necessarily in a bad way? She had a lot to think about suddenly.

 

"Relax your fingers," the technician instructed.

 

Rey obeyed. Oops.

 

"…and I'm trying not to freak out…" Finn was saying. He paused. "Uh-oh."

 

"Uh-oh?"

 

"Yeah. Uh-oh." He lifted his head in one of those "I see what you're doing" nods. "You got that same look on your face!" He leaned into her, lowering his voice in a different manner than she had, like they were conspiring. "You're _doing it, too_. Freaking out. I'm going out of my mind, man! What do we _do_?"

 

" _You_ calm down and stop being so dramatic!" Rey replied. "I'm _fine_."

 

" _Please_ relax your fingers," the technician stressed somewhat sharply.

 

"Yeah, Rey, relax," Finn tried to joke, but it only increased Rey's ire.

 

"You need to relax, too," Finn's technician remarked wryly. "You're moving all over the place. I don't want to accidentally nick you."

 

Abashed out of his hyper behavior, Finn grew still, and Rey knew he was blushing. It was in the way he hunched his shoulders up and tried to hide his ears. His fingers, on the other hand, stayed "relaxed" indeed. His nail technician was scarier than hers, and she'd barely raised her voice.

 

"Could you _be_ anymore obnoxious?" Rey muttered, unable to resist having the last word.

 

"I don't know, British Chandler, can I?"

 

Rey looked at Finn.

 

Finn looked back.

 

"Does a permanent laugh track run through your mind?" Rey asked him.

 

"It does, yeah."

 

"Fantastic."

 

Bloody fantastic.

 

* * *

 

 

_But every touch is ooh, la, la, la_

_It's true, la, la, la,_

_Ooh, I should be running,_

_Ooh, you keep me coming for you…!_

"Finn's new ringtone?" Ben asked as Rey took her ramen out of the microwave. Her phone was on the counter beside her purse, which he was standing near, and it was loudly playing _Señorita_ by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello. Ben had entered her flat about two seconds ago, and his eyes were bright. He had something planned. She assumed it was likely related to either the upcoming visit of his friend or his mother.

 

"He won't stop singing it," Rey replied. She drained her bowl, wincing at the heat emanating from it as steamy water splashed into the sink. "He even told me he sings it in the shower."

 

Ben's eyes were abruptly laser-focused as they watched her shake a packet of seasoning into the noodles and stir it in with a fork. She raised an eyebrow at him and settled onto a bar stool at the island counter. What was he staring at? It was beef ramen. It smelled delicious. Maybe he was hungry, too?

 

She was about to offer to make him some when he said, his nose wrinkled, "You can see the grease floating on top of the water."

 

Rey had had about enough of men for the day. She shook her head. "Well, I'm sorry," she said, and if her tone was somewhat petulant, so be it. "We can't all be best-selling authors and the son of a senator. _Some_ of us can only afford ramen."

 

Occasionally, Ben had this ability to throw a complete curveball at her.

 

Now was one of those times.

 

"I know," he said, coming to stand beside her. "And that's why you should move in with me."

 

Snorting burning hot ramen juice out of her nose was unpleasant. Equally so was knocking her bowl over and spilling noodles all over the counter.

 

"Jesus fuck!" she shouted, choking on beef preservatives. Her eyes streaming, she scrambled off her stool for paper towels to clean up the mess. Ben knelt to help her, but she fended him off. She needed a moment to regain her bearings.

 

He folded his arms and peered down at her as she patted the floor, having finished with the countertop.

 

"Was that fucking necessary?" he asked, blunt as usual.

 

"Yeah," Rey rasped. "Yeah. I think so."

 

"You're freaking the fuck out."

 

"No. I'm not. I'm _fine_." What was with the accusations today that she was not okay?!

 

"Then why is your hand doing _this_?" Ben grasped her by the wrist. Her fingers were trembling like an addict jonesing for that next hit. "I mean, it's why you dropped the fucking bowl."

 

"Okay, Sherlock, you caught me!" Cornered, forced to confront her emotions, Rey tossed the dirtied paper towels in with the rest of the rubbish and put her bowl and fork in the sink. She briefly contemplated more ramen and decided against it. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

 

God, what—what—what _was this_?!

 

"It was just a suggestion," Ben said sourly.

 

"There should be some sort of build up to this!" Rey threw her hands up. "You don't—insult me about my choice of poor-people food and then say, 'And that's why you should move in with me!' Who does that?!" Ben Solo, that was who. Her own question, answered.

 

Christ, was it hot in here, or was that just her? She wanted to grab her shirt by the front and fan herself with it.

 

"We've been dating for months," Ben deadpanned. "I think you're amazing. I want to spend all my time with you. You're pretty."

 

Sometimes, there really were no words, Rey thought as she stared at him.

 

Wait, no, there were.

 

She gestured uselessly for a moment, then took a hand, placing it near her head and motioning like a bomb had gone off, like he hadn't had a clue. "You write _Victorian romance_ , and that was the best you can come up with?" Her voice dropped to his low one. "'You're amazing and pretty, Rey.'" She let it return to normal. "That's it? That's all you have?!"

 

"You're responding pretty fucking strongly to this," Ben remarked.

 

"You _think_?!" Rey cried. "You just dropped a bomb _entirely_ out of nowhere—"

 

"Would this be better?"

 

"Would _what_ be better?!"

 

Ben grabbed her and dipped her. She grasped a hold of his biceps so she wouldn't fall instinctively, though she knew he'd never let her hit the ground. Breathless, she stared up at him as his eyes pierced into hers. They were serious, and for a heartbeat, all was silent in her flat except for the rain pounding on the windows and the roof—that, and her labored breathing. Her heart was beating far too quickly. What was he doing?

 

"Rey," he murmured, lifting one of her hands so that he could press kisses to her knuckles and study her over them. "I utterly adore you. Every moment spent without you is agony."

 

She turned ten shades of red. She could feel it keenly.

 

This was a scene straight out of one of his novels.

 

The reformed rake, wooing his lady love.

 

"Ben," she protested, highly embarrassed—

 

And, perhaps, highly turned on, as well.

 

"I don't think I can go on living separated," he continued. His eyes were _smoldering_. "I need you with me. Please. Move in with me?"

 

"Jesus fuck," she said again, at a much lower volume.

 

"So? Is it better?" he asked with a gleam of mischief coming to his gaze.

 

"You've been planning this." Her mouth was dry. Other parts of her most definitely were not.

 

His teeth flashed in a grin as he kissed her and pulled them both into an upright position. "Of course. I can't say that shit on a whim."

 

"I don't know how to feel," she admitted. She pulled her shirt down from where it had ridden up.

 

"Hm… I planned this, too. How about… elated, delighted, ecstatic, enchanted, euphoric—"

 

"Did you memorize the bloody thesaurus?!"

 

"Possibly."

 

"Well?" she sighed. "What did you predict my answer to be?"

 

"I'm not an idiot," he stated. "I'm not going to tell you _that_."

 

"Damn it," she whined, throwing herself onto her couch.

 

He chuckled and dragged his fingers through his fluffy hair. "You really want me to make the decision for you?"

 

"Yuh huh," she said, her mind still spinning from that novel reenactment.

 

Ben hummed, rubbing his chin in thought. Then he shrugged. "As your friend Finn says: no take backsies."

 

"I'll do it if you never say that again," Rey said flatly.

 

"Then we're agreed." Ben smirked. The cat who had gotten the cream. "You're moving in."

 

 _…A carefully laid trap was sprung, wasn't it…?_ she thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey grabbed her phone and pulled up Finn's text screen. She'd migrated to her bedroom to have a moment of privacy to deliver the news.

 

_Me: So… I'm moving in with Ben._

Her phone vibrated.

 

_Finn: So… Rose is moving in with me._

Rey's head nearly exploded. Her fingers typed furiously.

 

_Me: How the hell did that happen?!_

_Finn: You go first._

_Me: Pass._

There was no way she was telling him that story yet, and she put her mobile down.

 

"Chinese?" Ben called across the flat. "There's nothing in your fridge."

 

"Why do you think I was eating ramen?!" Rey fired back.

 

Bloody hell, she hoped she'd made the right decision.

 

All the butterflies in her stomach were making it hard to think logically.

 

_Ben…_


End file.
